Dream Weaver
by gidgetgal9
Summary: Sam begins to have intense nightmares that put him on the edge of sanity. Will Dean be able to find the cause before he loses his brother? Dedicated to Floralia for her birthday. Co-written by sendintheclowns and beta'd by BlueEyedDemonLiz.
1. Chapter 1

Dream Weaver

Summary - Sam begins to have intense nightmares that put him on the edge of sanity. Will Dean be able to find the cause before he loses his brother?

Sendintheclowns A/N: Happy Birthday Floralia! You are not only a talented writer but a wonderful friend. To commemorate this lovely occasion, the brilliant Gidgetgal9 (who rocks!) agreed to put up with me in this co-writing project, the gifted BlueEyedDemonLiz provided beta services (thanks doll!) and the top-notch, irreplaceable Faye Dartmouth coached me through my portions (you're the best!) when my muse played hide-and-seek.

Gidgetgal9- AN: This is for the wonderful Floralia's birthday. She is a wonderful writer, friend and support system. I hope she has a wonderful day! Oh and of course I need to thank my co-writer - Sendintheclowns, I would be lost without her -she is my partner in crime. A big thanks to BlueEyeDemonLiz for her wonderful last minute beta on this- it was very appreciated!

_Dream Weaver_

_I've just closed my eyes again_

_Climbed aboard the dream weaver train_

_Driver take away my worries of today_

_And leave tomorrow behind_

_(Lyrics by Gary Wright)_

Chapter One

Something woke Dean up from a sound sleep and he stared around the motel room, hand gripping the knife tucked beneath his pillow, his body relaxed on the bed but his mind alert.

His eyes didn't see anything but his ears picked up the sound of Sam shifting restlessly on the other queen-sized bed. Sitting up, Dean took a swig of water from the glass he'd left on the nightstand. It was only 3:50 AM but he was wide-awake now, thanks to Sam and his dreams.

His kid brother had always been a dreamer, both while awake and asleep. But damn, since he and Sam had joined back up Dean's own sleep habits had taken a hit.

Sam suddenly heaved and flopped on his side so he was facing Dean. The streetlight outside of their room crept through the cracks of the blind-slats and pooled over Sam. His brother's face was pulled up tight with pain, and his breathing was fast, air puffing in and out of lungs at a rate that suggested hyperventilation was in the offing.

A nightmare. Damn. His brother hadn't suffered one this extreme since after San Francisco. Granted, plugging your whatever-Madison-was with a silver bullet was bound to leave some lasting effects but other than a bout of insomnia and some nightmares, Sam had seemed to be bearing up well. Especially when you considered all of the crap that had been thrown the kid's way.

A gasp from Sam had Dean on his feet, hovering over his brother. Something dark pooled on Sam's upper lip. Great, a nosebleed. And that coupled with the way his features were twisted into a grimace made Dean think maybe Sammy was having a vision. It had been a while, since right before Rivergrove and the demonic plague, so Dean had hoped maybe Sam had finally caught a break and the visions were gone. There was only one way to find out – it was time to wake up his brother.

Dean put a hand on his brother's shoulder and lightly shook him. "Sammy, open your eyes."

His voice was husky and soft from disuse but Sam should have been bolting upright, startled. Instead his limbs remained lax, his head flopping against the pillow, his eyes stubbornly remaining shut.

Trying again, Dean shook his brother's shoulder with more vigor and the only response he received was Sam flopping partway on to his back from his harsh shove.

Sam's chest wasn't moving.

Sam wasn't breathing.

Dean sank on to the lumpy mattress and hauled Sam up to a sitting position, not liking the way his brother's head wilted on his neck, lolling back toward the bed. Thrusting his left hand behind Sam's back, Dean cupped his right hand at the nape of Sam's neck, supporting his heavy head.

Dean stared at his brother, willing him to open his eyes, breathe, do something. "Come on Sammy, snap out of it!"

Slanted blue-green eyes, cloudy with confusion, peaked at Dean from behind half-mast lids. "De'n?"

The tension in Dean's body relaxed and his hands started to drop away, self-conscious about crowding Sam's personal space. Without the support his brother's body sank toward the mattress and Dean scrambled to grab him and hold him upright. Sam's eyes rolled back into his head; Dean resumed supporting his back and head and Sam's eyes settled again. "Come on, Sammy, you with me yet?"

Dean remembered holding Baby Sammy this way, his small hand trying to hold up his brother's head. And Baby Sammy had blinked at him with much the same expression of disorientation and trust.

A trembling hand lifted to smear the blood under Sam's nose and his face crinkled in dismay. Dean could easily read the look on Sam's face – gross. They'd both been raised the same way yet Sam had never totally embraced the things that made hunting cool. The knives and guns and dirt and blood. But Sam's reaction to the blood smeared on his hand told Dean much more than words could, that Sam was okay.

Relief snaked down Dean's spine and without giving it a thought, he yanked Sam into a crushing hug and then settled him back against the headboard. "Nice to have you back. Now what the hell was that about?"

Grabbing up a wad of Kleenex from the nightstand, Dean thrust them into Sam's hand. Sam's limbs were still uncoordinated in that sleep-lax way, his eyes still hazy with confusion. But when he dabbed delicately at the blood coating his upper lip Dean's concern throttled back further. His brother, the delicate flower.

Sam shifted against the headboard. "What happened?"

A sigh slid out of Dean's mouth. "I was kinda hoping you could tell me. I couldn't wake you up and then I think you stopped breathing…what the hell, Sammy? Was it a vision?"

Pursing his lips in deep thought for a moment, Sam seemed to consider Dean's words. Just as quickly, his expression blanked out, the lines smoothing from his face, his eyes deadening.

It was the best poker face Sam, he of a thousand expressions, had ever shown Dean.

Like he was hiding something.

Of course Dean had withheld information from Sam not so long ago. Their dad's last words to Dean had been a point of contention between the brothers – primarily that Dean hadn't told Sam for months what John Winchester had whispered in his oldest son's ear – but he'd really thought they'd worked past it.

Dean stared uncomprehendingly at his brother. "Jesus, Sam, was it a vision? You can tell me. I mean you weren't breath…never mind."

Dean could tell Sam was disengaging from the conversation, his features still bland. Frustration spiraled through him at the way his younger brother could filter him out at times. "You don't want to tell me? Fine."

His brother stared at a point somewhere over Dean's shoulder. The Sam of old would have protested or tried to explain himself; there was no doubt in Dean's mind that his younger sibling would have made a first rate lawyer with the way he wielded words for his own purpose, whether he was smoothing over a misunderstanding or going for the jugular. But this time the silence stretched out and Dean acknowledged that he was hurt.

Sam couldn't even be bothered to explain what was going on in his head. Dean buried the hurt deep, true to the Winchester legacy.

Smoothly pushing to his feet, Dean stalked over to his bag. "We're up now so we might as well hit the road. There's nothing keeping us tied to this place."

Without waiting for a response, Dean swept into the bathroom. If Sam wouldn't level with him, there was no use trying to talk.

-0-

Leaning his head against the passenger window, Sam tried to relax against the backdrop of Bon Scott's raw vocals. He actually liked AC DC but he'd only admit to it under extreme duress; something like pliers pulling off his fingernails would probably do the trick. If Dean was trying to get under his skin by blasting the music, it wasn't going to work.

Sam was exhausted and keeping his eyes open while Bon wailed away was a different story.

Dean's cell phone sang out and the volume was suddenly turned down to a conversational level. Sam sat up, glancing at his brother.

From his brother's side of the conversation Sam could tell it was Bobby and he had a job for them. While Dean listened intently to their friend, Sam studied his brother. Dean had his elbow perched on the ledge of the driver's side window, the cell phone cupping his left ear, his right hand confidently clutching the steering wheel. Behind the wheel of the Impala, talking to Bobby, his brother looked relaxed. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Dean like this. Maybe on the set of the movie where Dean had thrived as a PA. Certainly not when he was just around Sam.

Although Sam keeping his big brother up with either pacing when the insomnia hit or the full decibel screams that sometimes accompanied some of his more detailed dreams, Sam could understand Dean's unease around him.

But last night's dream was a mystery to him. He'd woken up to find Dean staring at him, a freaked out expression on his pale face, his brother's hands clenched tightly around his biceps, holding him upright. Dean said he hadn't been breathing. Sam suffered from lots of problems – night terrors, migraines, snoring when he was congested – but sleep apnea was a new one.

Sam had racked his brain trying to remember what his last dream had been about. He'd had a sense of being surrounded by a great, black, gaping nothing. Something had teased at the edge of his mind but that's all he could come up with.

Dean hadn't believed him when he said he didn't remember anything. He hadn't exactly called Sam a liar but he pulled that silent treatment that he always fell back on when he was irritated with Sam. His older brother tended to forget that no one could outlast Sam when it came to dishing out the silent treatment.

But Sam hadn't stooped to that level of behavior this time. He'd tried to appease his big brother by acquiescing to whatever Dean wanted but that hadn't gotten him anywhere. He wished he could tell Dean what had happened in his dream but he didn't have a clue and trying to explain it now would seem forced. Too little, too late.

"Okay, we're about a day out from Arkansas. We'll let you know what we find." Dean flipped his cell phone down and severed the connection before pocketing it in his jacket.

Sam had missed most of Dean's end of the conversation while he'd zoned out. "That was Bobby. He thinks there's a werewolf job in Arkansas. I told him we'd check that out. Is that going to be a problem?"

He appreciated the sentiment behind the question. But if they were the closest hunters, then how could Sam justify saying he wasn't up to the hunt? People's lives could be at stake.

Madison was gone and there was nothing Sam could do to bring her back. Striving for strength but failing miserable, Sam answered. "No, no problem."

His attention was fixed steadily out the passenger side window as he remembered the look on Madison's face as she pleaded with him to kill her, break the curse. He could feel Dean's gaze on him. He kept his face averted, afraid he'd find compassion on his brother's face.

It was too much to think about right now and his own hand twisted up the volume on the stereo.

He didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep but once he closed his eyes, he was overcome with exhaustion.

Madison was standing in front of him, naked save for Sam's button down shirt which flapped becomingly around her thighs. Red blossomed from her chest. "Sam, you should be dead, not me. You're a complete freak and you're allowed to live and here I am, dead with a silver bullet through my heart. That's so unfair. I trusted you, Sam. You need to fix this."

Sam jerked awake to find found himself nose to nose with Dean. His brother was holding him up, asking him questions, crushing him in a hug and handing him Kleenex. Déjà vu.

As he settled against the headboard, a hand rapped Sam across his cheek, a knuckle splitting his lip open. "You're such a little freak. Wake up already. I'm so sick of your shit."

Trapped against the headboard, Sam whimpered. He didn't mean to make a sound – he'd learned before the age of ten that it didn't pay to show weakness around his dad or brother – but he was overwhelmed. His nightmares had always gotten out of hand, even as a kid, and Dean had always been the soul of patience with him. At least until now.

Dean must be seriously pissed off with him right now and he searched his brain for a way to deescalate the situation. He and Dean needed to be on the same page.

His body tensed and jumped as something collided with his cheek. "I swear to God, Sam, if you don't wake up I'm going to…finally, you're awake."

Once again Sam found himself held up by his brother, this time Dean's hands were twined in his jacket, levering him away from where he was pressed against the passenger door. Instead of anger he found himself confronted with concern.

Fingers snapped in front of his face. "Sammy, you in there? You're kind of freakin' me out here, dude."

Looking around Sam realized the Impala was at a stand-still, parked in front of a motel. His tone was scratchy, his tone bewildered. "Where are we?"

Sam was still shaking off the nightmare within a nightmare. He understood the first part of the dream with Madison since they were starting another werewolf job but the part with Dean slapping him around didn't make sense to him.

His big brother was the only stable influence in his life and even when they argued and fought, Dean looked out for him.

Dean narrowed his eyes and watched him closely. Sam hated feeling like a bug under a microscope. But he knew he was acting like a freak and deserved the scrutiny.

-0-

Dean was alternating between scrapping this hunt completely or trying to do it alone. He really felt that Sam wasn't ready to face another werewolf so soon. The boy was barely holding it together.

The frustrating part was that Sam was being stubborn about his latest bouts and refusing to share the details. Dean understood avoiding the whole sharing and caring thing, heck they were Winchesters and that had been drummed into them since they were little.

But this was different, this 'whatever it was' was effecting his brother not only mentally but physically. The kid was having nose bleeds and he'd even stopped breathing. So not cool. Throw in the latest bout where Dean couldn't wake Sam at all for a few minutes and that lead to justifiable grounds for spilling ones guts.

But Sam was having none of that, no. Instead of letting Dean in on what was happening, he kept saying that he didn't remember.

So that left Dean no choice but to either call Bobby and cancel or to do this hunt alone. There was no way he was letting Mr. Nothing Is Wrong, go out on a hunt. It would be too dangerous.

Dean was broken from his musings by his annoying little brother's voice from the other bed in the small but clean motel room they were occupying.

"Dean, if you keep scowling like that your face will freeze and then you'll never be able to pick up women again." Sam had the laptop open in his lap and seemed to be more relaxed then an hour earlier when they had first arrived.

"Sam, I was just thinking..."

"Don't hurt yourself." Sam was now smirking.

"Funny, not! No seriously Sam, I was thinking that maybe this isn't such a good idea." Dean tried to keep the frustration out his voice.

"What staying an hour away from the hunt so you can hole up in a college town? Dude, that was your call." Sam's tone was light but Dean could see the concern on his face.

"Doofus, only you would think that staying in a town where the college is known as a party college is a bad idea. I think it's a great idea. We could stay a few days and have some fun. I know I could use a break." Dean could see Sam bristle at the suggestion of taking a break.

"So you want to abandon the hunt? You think I'm gonna break?" Sam violently closed the laptop.

"No, I don't think you're gonna break. You are one of the strongest people I know. I just think that something is going on in that thick skull of yours and until we figure things out, we should take a break." Dean sighed and rubbed his face, waiting for the fireworks to begin and he wasn't disappointed.

"There is nothing to figure out Dean! I'm having nightmares, so what? News flash, I've had them all my life, you of all people know that." Sam stood and started to pace.

Dean held out placating hands. "Dude, I know but this is time is different."

"Why because I won't share with the class? Honestly Dean, I don't remember them!" Sam stopped pacing and walked up to the bed eyes full of anger.

"I call bullshit on that Sam!" Dean spat back. It was hard to not lose control with Sam being such an unreasonable bitch about this.

"Fine, whatever, I do remember part of the last dream and it had to do with Madison. Big shocker huh? You want details? Huh Dean? Wanna hear how I killed my lover?" Sam deflated and sunk down on the edge of Dean's bed.

"No, kiddo. I'm just worried. I had trouble waking you, and the nose bleeds are freaking me out." Dean reached out and tentatively laid a hand on his brother's thigh. He was relieved when Sam didn't pull away.

"I-I'm a little freaked myself. But to be honest, I've been thinking too, and I really feel that I need to confront my fears. There is a werewolf out there killing people, and I would not be able to live with myself if I didn't help. I think if we avoided this hunt, that my nightmares would get worse. I need to save people Dean. Please, it's all I have anymore, besides you." Sam's shoulders hunched and he looked miserable.

"Okay, we'll do this. I don't like it but I can understand why you need to do this. But, you stick close to me on this hunt, just like when we were younger. I'll take point." Dean patted Sam's thigh and pulled his hand away.

Sam huffed. "When do you not take point? Don't worry, I'll have your back, I promise."

"I know you will Sammy." Dean swallowed hard and gave Sam a reassuring smile, the whole while he tried to convince himself that this was the right thing to do.

-0-

Sam was relieved that Dean listened to him and understood why this hunt was important to him. As a hunter, he had to get past any hang ups he might have or he'd never be able to truly have his brother's back.

It had been hard to admit dreaming about Madison but in the end it had been worth it to have his brother understand his state of mind.

Sighing, Sam moved over to his bed and picked up the battered laptop and opened it.

Dean tracked his movement and once Sam had the laptop open he spoke. "So what notes did Bobby send on this hunt?"

"Well, the basics that you know. Three people were killed last month during the full moon cycle on the hiking trails in the Ozark National Park. Hearts were missing but the bodies were so mutilated, that it was thought to be an animal attack." Sam paused letting his brother mull over the facts.

"So probably a werewolf but could be a black dog or even an animal shape shifter."

"Yeah, but there was an interesting fact that Bobby sent. I've never come across this before with Dad's notes." Sam could see his brother's curiosity was peaked but the quirky expression he was shooting him.

"Alright lay this interesting fact on me little brother."

"It seems that with werewolves, there are really two different kinds. The city werewolf, like the ones we recently encountered and ones that are found in the wild." Sam cleared his throat trying to clear his head of thoughts of Madison.

"How are they different? Are the city werewolves more refined and the wild ones are rednecks?"

Sam appreciated his brother's attempt at getting his mind off of Madison with humor, and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "No, but close I guess. Uh, the city werewolves tend to keep more of their human features while the ones in the wild are more wolf like in fact can shed all of their humanity."

Dean's forehead crinkled up in thought. "Huh, I guess that makes sense. It would make hunting easier if you blended in with your surroundings."

"Yeah, it does make sense and you know we've never faced a wild werewolf before." Sam was beginning to feel better that the werewolf they might face wouldn't look at all human.

"The best part about this? Silver bullet will kill a werewolf, shape shifter or black dog so we're covered either way." Dean added, with a sparkle to his eye.

Sam smiled at his brother's enthusiasm. "So we load up and go hunting?"

"Sounds like a plan, maybe we'll be done in time to hit the bars around here!" Dean bounced with excitement.

"Yeah, maybe." Sam shook his head at his older brother and his childlike excitement over the hunt. Some things never changed.

TBC

**Feedback is very appreciated! :0)**


	2. Chapter 2

Dream Weaver

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Chapter Two

Dean was still apprehensive about Sam taking on this hunt so soon after Madison, but maybe Sam did need this in order to be able to move on.

They had quickly loaded up the guns with silver bullets and now were heading towards the trails where the attacks had occurred.

The drive was a quiet one. Sam pretended to look over their dad's journal but Dean could tell by the kid's body language that his head wasn't on the journal.

Dean tried his best to keep his mind on the hunt and not on his little brother. But he found himself totally in tune with his little brother's tense posture and frustrated sighs. It made him want to turn the car around and head back to the motel.

But there was really no turning back on this, Sam was right he needed to face his fears. Their father had drilled that into them at a young age. You always get back in the saddle after a fall.

It didn't mean that this was easy on Dean and he knew that it had to be hell on his kid brother. He'd been there to pick up the pieces after Madison and it hadn't been pretty. The nightmares had finally stopped, well until the other day.

Hopefully after this hunt, the nightmares would disappear again. At least the ones regarding Madison, Sam would never be totally free of nightmares. They had been a part of his little brother's sleep habits since he was very young.

The long drive flew by and before Dean knew it they had pulled into the Devil's Den State Park which was part of the Ozark National Park's system.

Bringing Sam back to reality, Dean shook his brother. "We're here, Sammy."

Sam nodded and stretched. "kay."

"So Sam, do you think being named Devil's Den cursed this park?" Dean asked as he started to exit his baby.

"Doesn't help I'm betting." Sam responded as he opened the passenger door.

Dean checked the parking area. It was deserted which wasn't surprising considering the recent attacks and the fact that it was getting late in the day. The sun was setting as they pulled the supplies out of the trunk.

"Dean, should we start out on the main trails or the back country?" Sam asked as he shouldered his duffel bag.

"Well, since the attacks have occurred at both places, let's try easy first and if it doesn't bite we'll come back and do the whole camping out in the middle of nowhere thing." Dean hoped that this would be figured out tonight, the thought of camping set him on edge.

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan, camping always sucks and ends badly for us." Sam replied as he slammed the truck shut.

"Dude, don't take your camping frustration out on my baby!" Dean huffed as he followed Sam out of the parking area. He not so gently flicked his brother in the back of his head.

"Ow, asshole, that car is not alive and contrary to what you believe Dean, she didn't feel me slamming the trunk." Sam gave Dean a bitch face and then turned away continuing his way out of the parking lot.

"Fine, but it's still not good for the car trunk to be slammed just because you have your panties in a wad." Dean passed the park donation box at the end of the parking lot and grabbed Sam's right arm pulling him to a stop.

"Dean, I'm sorry, don't be a baby." Sam groused as he turned around.

"Apology accepted, but that's not why I stopped you. You promised to have my back on this one, not the other way around. I take point." Dean reshouldered his bag and walked past Sam.

"Dude, I didn't forget, but we weren't even out of the parking lot yet."

Dean could hear more mumbling, but he tuned it out just content to have Sam behind him and out of danger.

-0-

Sam fell in behind his brother, there was something comforting about it even if Dean was being overprotective.

The drive had been a hard one. He had tried to concentrate on the hunt but the nightmare with Madison kept replaying in his head. Her words echoed in his ears.

"_Sam, you should be dead, not me. You're a complete freak and you're allowed to live and here I am, dead with a silver bullet through my heart. That's so unfair. I trusted you, Sam. You need to fix this."_

Even now he was having trouble concentrating on the hunt. Sam shook his head hard trying to clear it.

It was starting to get dark and he needed to be on his toes.

"Sammy, you doing alright back there?" Dean had stopped and turned around just as Sam had stopped to clear his head.

"Yeah, just needed a moment. I'm good now." Sam tried to put his game face on but he could tell he wasn't fooling his brother.

"We could go back. It's not even dark yet and the attacks all occurred a few miles in." Dean gave Sam a reassuring smile.

Sam really wanted to stop, but he couldn't. Not with people dying. This was their job and even though right now all he wanted to do was run from it, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with his conscience if he did.

"People are dying, we need to do this." Sam was proud that his statement came out confident, considering he was far from feeling that way.

"Well, I can always come back tomorrow and do this alone." Dean answered just as confidently.

Sam vehemently shook his head. "No, a werewolf hunt is too dangerous to go it alone. You know that, it's one of the things Dad ingrained in our heads."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, well then we get someone else to do this then."

"And risk someone else dying in the meantime? I don't think so. I couldn't live with myself. You think I'm not coping well now? If someone was to die..."

"Sammy..."

"I need to do this Dean. I promise to focus and to have your back. Trust me please?" Sam gave Dean a pleading look and was pleased to see his brother melt.

"Damn it, okay. Just stay close, okay?"

"Promise. Hey, how far do you want to go?" Sam tried to switch attention back to the hunt, and to move on.

"Well, if I remember the reports right, the first attack happened about three hours in right?" Dean had turned around and started hiking up the uphill trail.

"Yep. So we just follow this trail and see if we find anything?" Sam knew he was speaking the obvious but he needed to let his brother know that his head was back in the game.

"That's the plan. Unless you had other ideas?" Dean countered.

"Nope, lead the way."

-0-

Dean had been relieved that so far there were no signs of the werewolf or whatever creature that was responsible for the attacks. He hoped that the night would be a bust, and that Sam would have more time to get his head right with the hunt.

There had been no signs of werewolf activity and the first attack scene had been pretty clean other than a bit of blood smears on the trees around the trail. With the many blood splatters that covered the trees, it was no doubt that the attacks had been brutal. Not that they need to see the blood, the autopsy photos that Sam had hacked into at the local coroner's office had been stomach turning.

The sight of the blood had accomplished one positive effect. Sam seemed to perk up and focus. That had made Dean breathe a bit easier.

"So what now Dean? Should we camp out here for a few hours or move on?" Sam asked as he turned from his examination of the site.

"I think I'll scout out the area around the attack and you stay here and watch our equipment." Dean put his bag down near one of the trees and flexed his sore shoulder.

"Dude, I thought we agreed it was better not to separate." Sam answered as he sat his own bag down on the trail.

"Yes, and that's why I'm not going far, I'll stay within yelling distance." Dean grabbed a water bottle out of his duffel and took a swig.

"And I get to babysit our stuff? Why can't we just leave it here? It's not like there's anyone around to take it." Sam huffed as he leaned against a large rock next to the trail.

"Uh, I beg to differ. Remember the Wendigo hunt? You never know who is watching and we can't lose our weapons or we're screwed." Dean finished his water and put the empty bottle in his bag, and then began searching for his flashlight. His gun was already tucked in the back of his jeans and his silver knife was safely secured to his ankle.

"Alright, I'll watch our stuff but Dean, don't play hero and try and go after this thing alone. If you find a trail or something to follow, come back and get me." Sam reached into his own bag and pulled out a water bottle.

"I promise Samantha, don't go pmsing on me. Like I said, I'll be within yelling distance so if you see anything, let me know. Same goes for you as far as facing this thing alone. Hear me?"

"Yes, me and the whole forest." Sam grumbled back.

"Be back in few." Dean replied as he started out searching for any sign of the creature.

-0-

Sam frowned as he watched Dean disappear through the trees. Without his brother to distract him he was left alone with his own thoughts and they weren't very pleasant. He just couldn't shake the dream he'd had in the car. It was bad enough Madison was haunting him but now he was unsettled by the way dream-Dean had batted him around and made him feel insignificant.

He shook his head and tried to refocus. Letting himself get distracted while in the middle of a case was the second- to-worse thing he could let happen; letting something happen to Dean was the absolute worst.

Soft footfalls sounded from the direction Dean had headed. "Bro?"

Silence greeted Sam's voice and the young hunter realized the wooded area, previously alive with the sound of buzzing insects, had gone completely still.

Pulling his sawed off, double barreled shotgun from his bag, Sam stalked forward. The quiet of the forest reverberated around his brain and he found himself clutching the shotgun more tightly than was necessary.

He didn't want to stray far from their stuff since Dean had tasked him with guarding it so he stopped when he got to a brush pile, about twenty feet away from his starting point. The tangle of branches and dried leaves seemed like a potential fire hazard but that wasn't his worry; his full attention needed to be on the job.

The hair on the back of Sam's neck stood up and his nerves sizzled with awareness; he was no longer alone.

He pulled the shotgun up and slowly pivoted. Almond shaped hazel eyes blinked at him from a dark brown fox-like face.

Not a fox. A wolf. Sam quickly sighted down the barrel, taking aim.

He started to squeeze the trigger but Madison's beautiful eyes glowed at him.

_Sam, you should be dead, not me. _

This couldn't be happening; he had to be in the throes of a vision.

He faltered for a moment but when the long snout crinkled at him, he realized his mistake and scrambled to realign his shot.

The wolf (werewolf?) launched at him and Sam swore as his bullet fired wide. That's all he had time for before something heavy collided with his chest, knocking him violently backward, the back of his head striking the hard-packed earth.

"SAM!"

His brother's robust yell might have shaken Sam into dropping his gun but the collision with the werewolf had already taken care of that.

Hot breath licked at his face and Sam searched frantically for the shotgun. Pressure on his upper left chest and shoulder pulled him up short and he sagged back to the ground.

"Sam, dammit, move!"

Dean sounded frantic and Sam's body tried to obey but it was sluggish, matching his thought processes.

Dean was in trouble and Sam was letting him down.

Again.

His vision shrunk to a pinhole. When bright lights exploded in his periphery, Sam's consciousness fled, feelings of uselessness lingering.

TBC

**A/N: Due to RL issues, we maybe post this a bit slower than I normally post. I hope to have more up in a few days. Feedback is appreciated! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. :0)**


	3. Chapter 3

Dream Weaver

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Chapter Three

Dean heard a commotion from behind him and he spun around, his feet pounding dirt as he sprinted toward Sam.

Sometimes he forgot what a trouble magnet his baby brother was but normally he wouldn't have worried because Sammy was a Winchester and could take care of himself. But Sam was off his game and the lack of noise from the clearing where he'd left Sam was scaring the bejeezus out of him.

His heart stuttered in his chest as he neared the huge brush pile; Sam was holding his sawed-off on what looked like a large brown dog.

A Mexican standoff and no one moved.

Looking more like Lassie than Dean's idea of a werewolf, he nevertheless remembered what Sam had said about country werewolves – they looked more wolf-like and didn't retain their human features as much as their city counterparts. He trusted his brother not to dust some stray pet so this was most likely the object of their hunt.

The dog heard Dean's approach and snapped out a growl. The noise acted as a catalyst for Sam and he finally swung the shotgun up fractionally as though drawing a bead on the animal.

And then the animal launched itself at Sam and his little brother took the brunt of its weight on his chest as it forced him back into the brush pile.

"SAM!"

Dean didn't mean to yell so loudly but at the sight of Sam spilling backward, his head colliding with the ground in a noticeable thud, he couldn't contain himself. He wondered why Sam had hesitated in taking the shot and then he was too busy trying to shoot the damn thing himself that he didn't have time for anything else.

The animal crowded over Sam's recumbent body, its face inches from his brother's. "Sam, dammit, move!"

His brother's arm weakly flopped and then stilled.

The dog turned its narrow face toward Dean and sniffed with disdain before bounding off into the woods.

It disappeared before Dean could get off a shot.

Once he was satisfied that it was just humans left in the clearing he approached his brother.

Sam's long legs were sprawled out straight in front of him, his upper body canted to the left and leaning against something. His brother's head was tipped back, his neck at an awkward angle.

The slight up and down of Sam's chest was the only indication that his brother was still alive.

Kneeling down, Dean left his gun within easy reach while triaging his brother's injuries. "Sam, you awake?"

Not even a moan acknowledged his question. Sam was breathing in an even cadence so Dean knew his airway was open. His fingers sought his brother's carotid and he frowned as he felt the rapid, weak pulse he associated with shock. He'd heard Sam conk his head on the ground but that shouldn't cause him to go into shock…unless he had a bleed in his brain or something.

Dean slid a hand under the back of Sam's hand and was pleased that he didn't feel moisture on his skin. He carded his hand through Sam's locks until he pushed along the surface of Sam's skull. A lump was forming but it didn't seem remarkable, at least not in comparison to the pantheon of hunt injuries the brothers had accumulated over the years.

He carefully cradled Sam's head in the crook of his arm while he used his thumb to push back one of Sam's eyelids. His brother jerked away, startled eyes blinking at him woozily. "Dean? What happened?"

Sam's voice lacked force. By now his little brother should have been trying to push away from him, scramble to his feet. It was the Winchester way although not always the healthiest.

In the dying sunlight Dean could see the sheen of sweat on his brother's face. Unnaturally pale skin, clammy to the touch, told Dean that Sam wasn't out of the woods yet, in more ways than one.

Pushing the thick bangs off Sam's forehead, Dean made himself sound unworried. "Hey, can you tell me what hurts?"

Confusion shone from Sam's hazel eyes. "Nothing hurts. I'm fi…"

Snorting, Dean cut his brother's reply off. "I know, you're fine. I tell you what, I'm going to set you back down and finished checking you over."

His actions matched his words and he lowered Sam's head to the ground, straightening his neck to avoid the kink he knew had to be developing from lying at an odd angle.

And then Sam yelped. It wasn't a moan or a groan or even a cry. It was a staccato bark of pain and it froze Dean in his tracks. "Sammy?"

His brother lifted his right hand and laid it flat against his left shoulder. Dean pushed the lethargic hand away and felt something protruding through Sam's layers of shirts. Through his skin. Had the creature left a claw in Sam?

Dean's free hand competently slid over the front of Sam's chest and left shoulder before sliding beneath him.

His fingers came in contact with a solid object. It was like bark.

It wasn't like bark, it was bark. And it had pierced Sam at the base of his scapula and apparently gone right on through his body until it poked out his front.

Stomach lurching, Dean looked at Sam's face. His brother's eyes were blinking slowly, his eyes unfocused. "Hey, Sam, I think I know what the problem is here. I'm going to have to shift you up and then take care of this…um…problem and then we can get out of here."

Sam's body was pliant as Dean hefted him to a sitting position while trying to hold the branch stable. He needn't have worried about having to break the branch off; it pulled out of his brother with a sucking noise that turned Dean's stomach.

Pliant turned to limp as Sam's total weight was transferred into Dean's arms.

Being skewered by a big stick would throw any body into shock. Now Dean had to figure out if Sam needed a hospital of if Dean could apply a little motel style treatment to his brother's wounds.

-0-

Awareness came to Sam slowly. He felt funny.. Not funny ha-ha, funny strange. Light-headed.

The terrain beneath his head advanced at a slow and steady pace, making his head throb. Something bound his chest and left shoulder and Sam found it too restrictive but he lacked the energy to do anything about it.

The air whooshed out of his chest with each step Dean took. At least Sam was pretty sure he recognized the view of his brother's backside courtesy of years of always trailing behind his big brother.

The sensation of spinning ceased for a moment and Sam realized they had stopped. "I'm going to ease you to your feet and then on to the seat. That's right, Sam, let me do the work."

Dean's voice was mellow and patient, unlike the usual snarkiness he would have expected from his brother after he had carried what he always referred to as Sam's heavy ass.

The world titled on its axis and Sam found himself sliding until his feet hit the gravel and he was upright, pinned against the car by Dean's hands. "Hey, you're awake. That's great. I'm going to just…hey, no, Sam. Stay with me. Damn it, don't…"

The pervasive dizziness and weakness receded, taking Sam's consciousness with it.

The purr of the Impala was comforting under Sam's ear. Without cracking an eye open, he was pretty sure he was reclining on the back seat, his torso propped up on its right side while his legs were bent awkwardly to accommodate their length.

Everything ached. His head, chest, and left shoulder seemed to throb the strongest while his neck and tailbone came in a close second. He was awake which seemed like a good thing. The dizziness was back, stronger than before, and was joined by nausea so deep and abiding Sam wasn't sure he could keep the contents of his stomach where they belonged.

The cons definitely outweighed the pros and Sam wished for the brief respite of unconsciousness again.

The door of the Chevy swung open heavily and Sam was reminded of why it was paramount he stay alert; he didn't want to worry his brother.

"Sam, you back with me? Just hang on; I'm going to help you in to our room. Please don't pass out on me again, okay?" His brother's concerned voice penetrated his fog and he realized he'd already screwed up and Dean was one step away from panic.

He opened his mouth to reassure his big brother that he was okay, or at least better, but a moan shattered the silence inside of the car as Dean tugged him across the vinyl seat. "Shhh, it's okay. We're almost there and then you can rest. Sam? Don't do this to me..."

The next time Sam opened his eyes, it was to find Dean bent over him, smoothing tape over gauze on his left shoulder. Cool air touched his skin and he shivered involuntarily.

Calloused fingers smoothed the tangle of hair off his forehead. "I need to get some liquids into you, Sam. It would be really nice if you could keep your eyes open for more than sixty seconds."

Sam made a grab for Dean's hand as it pulled away; he missed but a gasp escaped his lips. Despite using his right hand, his left shoulder throbbed its protest at the movement.

His brother's face, freckles standing out starkly against the pale skin, swam into view. "It's about time. Five more minutes and I was going to haul your heavy ass to the nearest hospital. You are awake, right? Come on, Sam, say something."

"Something."

His face felt stiff as he forced a smile but it was worth it as Dean's whole demeanor shifted; standing down from red alert.

Dean moved out of his line of vision and returned with bottled water clutched in his hand. "You lost some blood out there. We're going to have to replenish your fluids. If I lift your head, do you think you can swallow some of this down?"

Nodding his assent, Sam winced; his heartbeat swooshed in his ears and he struggled to hang on, not pass out. Note to self, don't move head.

The back of his head was gently cradled and lifted and cool liquid spilled into his mouth. As the first drop of moisture hit his tongue, Sam realized he was raging with thirst. "Easy, Sammy. Slow down."

The cool water was withdrawn and Sam pouted.. His head was laid softly on the lumpy pillow but he was grateful that he could stretch out on the bed instead of having his legs and neck cramping from being confined in the small backseat of the Impala. At least it was small for his frame. Of course he couldn't disparage his brother's pride and joy; he'd already done that once tonight and earned Dean's wrath.

Sam felt better. If he didn't move the dizziness and pain in his left shoulder were manageable.

He wondered how long he'd been out but he didn't want to rotate his neck and look at the alarm clock on the nightstand; his body wanted him to remain still and he didn't want to black out and throw Dean into a tailspin. "What time is it?"

His voice was only marginally stronger than before but he was pleased it didn't crack with fatigue. He'd take the victories where he could, no matter how small.

Another shiver rippled through his body and Sam winced. The comforter was folded over his body carefully, cocooning him in warmth. Sam aimed a smile at Dean in appreciation but his brother was already moving away from the bed. "It's just after 9."

Sam's forehead creased in confusion for a moment. Things were still a little muddy but he was pretty sure they'd gotten to the campground around 7 PM. They'd been out there at least an hour and then the whole werewolf thing had happened. Dean must have driven like a bat out of hell to get them back to the motel that quickly. At least they'd made it back without getting into a high-speed accident. He relaxed against the bed.

Dean corrected his misconception and Sam's body tightened again. "That's 9 in the morning. You've been in and out since I got you back here around Midnight."

Sam forced himself to relax. There was nothing he could do about it now and every time he tensed his muscles, pain shot through his abused muscles and joints. He'd just have to put all his energy into healing so Dean didn't have to continue nursing him like this.

He cleared his throat, his voice ragged. "What happened to my shoulder?"

Dean's white teeth flashed in the gloom of the room. "Shish kabab Sammy."

Sam could tell that his brother had been waiting to use that line and he wished he could do more to acknowledge his brother's sense of humor than just lay there like a rock; it was funny. It would have been funnier if it had happened to someone else.

Dean seemed disappointed that his joke didn't get more of a rise out of Sam but he continued, "You got skewered by a branch. Entered your body just below your shoulder blade and exited out the front. Luckily it didn't seem to hit anything major though I know it hurts like a bitch. I had to put in more than twenty stitches so no power weight lifting for a while, capisce? And you managed to rattle your brains around again, smacked your head on the ground pretty hard."

The silence spun out as Sam tried to make sense of his injuries. He remembered the wolf. Madison's eyes. Werewolf. It was hard to untangle the mess in his head.

A comforting hand lightly squeezed his good shoulder. "Hey, now that I know you're alive, why don't you close your eyes and get some rest?"

Sam followed his brother's advice and closed his eyes; Dean was doing everything he could to see to Sam's needs and it made him feel like he had when he was a kid. Before he'd found out about the family business. Safe. Secure.

On his last reserves, Sam capitulated to his body's need to sleep.

Dean was here and would watch over him.

TBC

**A/N: Just wanted to thank our wonderful beta- BlueEyedDemonLiz for her great beta work. Thanks to those who have left reviews! More soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

Dream Weaver

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Chapter Four

_He pulled the shotgun up and slowly pivoted. Almond shaped hazel eyes blinked at him from a dark brown fox-like face. _

_Not a fox. A wolf. Sam quickly sighted down the barrel, taking aim. _

_He started to squeeze the trigger but Madison's beautiful eyes glowed at him._

_Sam, you should be dead, not me. _

_He expected it to attack like it did before, but this time it start to stand on its hind legs, morphing into a human form._

_Madison. She stood before him with haunted eyes, wearing his shirt with a bullet hole in the middle. There was blood so much blood._

_Sam swallowed hard and forced himself to speak. "I'm so sorry, God, I ..."_

"_You what? Wish it could have been you?" Madison glared at him, her words full of spite. "It should have been you or at the least a lovers suicide pact. That way I wouldn't be alone."_

_Sam felt like his whole body was on fire, the guilt inside him burning him from the inside out. His long body began to betray him and he fell to his knees sobbing, losing his vision to the burning tears._

_Another voice pierced his misery. A voice of an angel, one from his not so distant past. Jess._

"_Oh look baby is gonna cry. Maybe big brother will save him? But there was no one to save us! We were sacrificed while Sammy with all the evil inside him was allowed to live. Not fair." _

_Sam viciously wiped away the tears clouding his vision. Once able to see, he wished he hadn't bothered, because the sight before him broke his heart all over again._

_Jess was wearing the white nightgown that she had been wearing the night she died. The middle of it stained crimson from her blood. She was holding Madison's hand and they were both scowling at him with pure hatred in their eyes._

_He had never seen either look that way at anyone. It hurt him to the core that he was the reason for such hatred. _

"_I'm so sorry, I..."_

_Jess interrupted with a huff. "Hear that Maddy? He's sorry. We're dead and he's sorry."_

_Madison shook her head. "Now, how could he make this up to us? Do you think he is sorry enough to make it up to us?"_

_Jess smirked. "Doubtful, he doesn't have the guts."_

"_W-wait, how could I make it up to you? How?" Sam sputtered the words out and scrambled off the ground, only finding it hard to keep his balance on his shaky limbs._

"_Join us." Both girls said in unison, and then burst into a fit of hysterical laughter. Slowly, disappearing before Sam._

_-0-_

Dean had settled down with the laptop, researching the wolf or whatever it was again. He was shocked to find that small fox like prints had been found near one of the bodies.

So either a possessed fox or a small werewolf, either way he needed to get out and waste the thing before it hurt anyone else. Once Sam was up to being alone, Dean would take care of that problem once and for all.

_No one or thing, hurts Sammy and gets away with it. _

Hopefully his brother would be on the mend soon, so that Dean would have a chance at the creature during his full moon cycle. There were two days left and then it would be another month before he could track it.

Dean was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of his brother in distress. Sam was deep in sleep, caught up in a nightmare. It was a common sight but it always caused Dean's stomach to tighten. He's wished desperately since Sam was a toddler that he could make the bad dreams go away.

Dean did the only thing he knew how to do, he sat down on Sam's bed and tried to gently wake his sibling. Bedclothes were wrapped tightly around his little brother's legs, and Sam was panting in his sleep.

The elder hunter slowly placed a hand on Sam's right shoulder and almost flinched away from the heat coming off of the limb. His little brother was burning up, which was not good.

Dean had hoped that they would avoid infection this go around with Sam's wound, but evidently luck was not on their side. The fever was a relief in the fact that maybe it was the cause of the newest nightmare and not his brother's guilt over Madison.

"Sammy, dude you need to wake up. I need to give you something for the fever." Dean spoke softly trying to gently wake his brother.

His effort was met with a jerk of limbs and Sam curled into a ball.

A muffled sob escaped his brother's mouth and Dean could just make out his sibling's soft pain filled voice.

"I'm so sorry, God, I ..." Sam didn't finish his statement instead he curled up tighter, his body shuddering in sobs.

_Shit, so much for not having a nightmare about his guilt over Madison. Why couldn't his brother have a normal nightmare about being public with his pants down?_

"Sammy, you need to wake up little brother. Please." Dean attempted to pull his brother out of the human pretzel he'd worked himself into. He wasn't making much head way, Sam's muscles were tight and locked in place.

Sam continued to whimper and then he gasped. Once again Dean could just make out his brother's hoarse voice. "I'm so sorry, I..."

Once again Sam wasn't able to finish his statement, instead he laid still like a rock in the bed. Dean saw this as his chance, he started pulling on Sam. He was able to get his brother laying flat but was unable to get the boy to wake.

Sam was still panting and Dean could see the rapid movement of his eyes under the lids.

"Sammy, don't do this to yourself, wake up!" Dean raised his voice, and flinched at the sound of it. He hadn't meant to yell at his brother but he was getting so frustrated with his brother's lack of response.

Dean felt he'd finally reached Sam with the boy shot up in sitting position nearly colliding with him. Sam's body was rigid, but his voice was strong as he spoke.

"W-wait, how could I make it up to you? How?"

The desperate quality of Sam's voice made Dean's heartbreak for him. "Sammy, come on dude, wake up. Please."

Sam whimpered and then gasped awake. His eyes moving around the room until they landed on Dean.

"D-Dean?" Sam was pale, his breathing was rapid, but he was awake, and Dean took comfort in that.

"Yeah, you were pretty wound up in a nightmare dude." Dean laid a comforting hand on his brother's thigh as he watched Sam struggle to pull himself out of the dream completely.

"It seemed real." Dean was shocked that Sam was up for talking about it considering the last few confrontations over nightmares.

"Uh, yeah well a fever will do that to you. So you wanna talk to me about it while I grab you some Tylenol?" Dean wanted to give Sam room, knowing that the kid reacted to that better than hovering.

"It was..." Sam stopped in mid-sentence, eyes glassed over.

Dean grabbed the first aid bag and brought it over to Sam's bed. He quickly retrieved the ear thermometer and shifted into his brother's limp compliant body. It troubled Dean that Sam was just sitting there, zoned out.

Deciding that it was best to bring Sam back from La La land, he prompted his little brother as the thermometer beeped.

"So your fever is right at a hundred not bad dude. So you said 'It was..' " Dean kept his attention on Sam as he dug in the first aid bag and retrieved their bottle of Tylenol.

Sam seemed to snap out of it when Dean spoke, much to Dean's relief.

"Dean, maybe we should check the wound for infection?"

Dean sighed in frustration, it was like pulling teeth sometimes to get Sam to open up. "Yeah, I was going to do that after I gave you these." Dean handed over two pills and grabbed a water bottle off the table next to the bed and handed it to Sam.

Sam gave him a grateful smile and quickly took the items, swallowing the pillows down quickly.

Dean took the water bottle back and gave his brother an encouraging smile. "Dude, was your dream about the hunt or Madison?"

It was Sam's turn to sigh. His little brother nodded. "Both, it morphed from the hunt to Madison. I'm sorry that I worried you again but at least there wasn't a nosebleed or anything weird this time."

"Yeah, well there's the fever but that's probably from the wound. Is there anything else you want to share? It's always good to have things in the open."

Sam's features became blank as he spoke. "No that's about it."

Dean let out a huff, he knew Sam was hiding things. It was frustrating but it was part of being Sam's brother. The Winchester patented way, hide your feelings. Deal with it on your own. And while Dean didn't mind applying that to himself, he hated it when Sam did.

"Well if we're done, let's check your wound."

Sam remained sitting up and began to unbutton his shirt. Dean helped Sam to gingerly work the shirt off over his wounded shoulder. Dean took his time pealing back the bandaging, trying not to hurt Sam.

He was relieved when the wound was revealed and it actually looked good. Well as good as a wound like that could look.

"Sammy, I don't see any signs of infection, but I'm gonna prod around just a bit to be sure, okay?" Dean hated to touch the sore sight but he had to make sure there was no infection.

"Yeah, just do it." Sam tensed as Dean moved his hands to the shoulder.

"Dude, don't tense it'll hurt more, just breathe." Dean was relieved when Sam took a deep relaxing breath. He could feel the tense muscles melt under his touch.

Taking his cue that Sam was ready, Dean applied a bit of pressure around the wound and was relieved when no pus leaked from the wound. Sam winced a bit but otherwise remained still.

"I think you're good kiddo. I just hope you're not coming down with something." Dean started to re-bandage the wound.

"I feel okay, maybe my body is just stressed out." Sam replied quietly.

Dean chuckled. "That's an understatement."

"What do you mean by that?" Sam's tone was accusatory.

Dean patted the shoulder lightly as he finished. "I mean, that this whole Madison thing has you so stressed that you lost focus."

Sam was gently pulling his sleeve on when he just stopped. "Sorry, I screwed up."

"Sam, I'm not accusing you of screwing up. We both agreed that you needed to move forward, and now we know that hunting a werewolf was not the way to do that." Dean tried to give Sam a reassuring smile as he repacked the first aid kit.

"I could have gotten you killed." Sam replied quietly.

"Dude, you could have gotten yourself killed. That's what scared me." Dean could see Sam folding into himself.

"I need to have your back." Sam's voice was getting quieter and Dean knew the kid was withdrawing into himself, building a wall of guilt.

"Listen Sam, it'll be okay, this hunt just wasn't the hunt for you. In fact, once your fever goes down, I plan on finishing it so we can get the hell out of Dodge." Dean stood up with the first aid kit and moved to place it on the dinette table.

Sam has started buttoning his shirt and stopped. "Dean, you can't go alone. You need back up."

"Sam, we tried that and you got skewered. No, it's a small creature, I can take it." Dean turned to see Sam's face painted in anger.

"Give me time to heal..."

"No, because by the time you're ready, we'll have to wait another month for the moon phase to be right. I need to act now and you're in no shape physically or mentally to help me." Dean hated that he'd lost his temper but damn it if the kid wasn't pushing buttons.

Sam's face fell. "Then go. I'm running a low grade fever, I'll be fine and I couldn't live with myself if someone died tonight because of me."

"Sammy..." Dean hated seeing Sam looking so defeated.

"GO!" Sam swallowed hard. "Sorry, just go please. You're right, it's a small creature. Just keep in touch, okay?"

"Yeah, okay Sammy." Dean grabbed his jacket, everything else that he need for the hunt was still in the Impala.

"Be careful." Sam gave him a small smile.

"Always. Hey, be sure to keep drinking fluids and I'll grab us something to eat at the all night diner on my way back."

Sam nodded and Dean reluctantly stepped out the door.

TBC

**A/N: I wanted to once again thank BlueEyedDemonLiz for betaing this for us. Thanks for reading! Feedback is very appreciated. We hope to have more up soon! :0)**


	5. Chapter 5

Dream Weaver

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Chapter Five

Dean had been on the road for thirty minutes and despite trying to concentrate on the hunt, his attention kept wandering back to Sam.

He'd suffered a moment akin to a panic attack, struggling to pull oxygen into his lungs, when he'd seen the branch protruding from his brother's shoulder. And Sam had been so disoriented that he hadn't even realized he'd been skewered and that alone had scared the crap out of Dean.

Then when Sam kept passing out, Dean thought for sure a trip to the hospital was in the near future. At first Dean had kept himself busy by cleaning, stitching and dressing the wound but the longer Sam remained unconscious, the more his brain chased in circles about just how serious the injury could be.

Actually Sam had been off his game even before the hunt had gone pear shaped – what if there was actually something else wrong with Sam? Both of them had suffered through a string of stressful events but Sam had never gotten a chance to recover from losing Jess, quitting school and resuming his old lifestyle before the whole Yellow Eyed Demon connection to Sam had come to light.

Reining himself in from that line of thought, Dean refocused on what he knew about the purpose for his trek to the campground. The wolf-like creature. Both he and Sam had seen it and it had been substantial enough to knock Sam over. Hard. But Dean knew with certainty that he'd fired a shot almost point blank at the thing and it hadn't even slowed it down. He remembered the way the lush tail had waved mockingly at him as the creature bounded out of sight.

Something was weird about this hunt. Make that weirder than usual. Dean thought seriously about turning the Impala around and going back to Sam. His spidey sense was a-tingle and he'd learned long ago to trust in it. It had saved his neck on more than one occasion.

Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, Dean pulled out his cell phone and called Sam. He'd made a point to leave Sam's phone right next to him so he could reach it, more so that Sam could call him if he took a turn for a worse rather than so Dean could bug him but he not only wanted to ask his brother a question about the wolf-thing, he wanted to hear his brother's voice.

Damn spidey sense.

The phone rang multiple times before he got dumped into voicemail. He terminated the call without leaving a message before dropping his phone on the passenger seat in a fit of pique.

There was probably an explanation as to why Sam hadn't picked up. Maybe he'd dragged himself into the bathroom. Or fallen asleep.

Neither reason was satisfactory – Sam shouldn't be up on his own and a phone ringing right next to his head should have woken Sam up.

Crap.

Dean took the next exit and immediately hit the on ramp, reversing direction and heading back to the motel.

His fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently before he snatched his cell phone back up. "Damn it, Sam, pick up."

"H'llo?"

Sam's voice was raspy and groggy and did nothing to alleviate Dean's concern. "Sammy, what's going on?"

Dead silence greeted his question for a beat too long and Dean's nerves stretched to the breaking point. On the verge of hanging up and doing something extreme, like calling 911, Dean finally heard his sibling sigh. "Dean? Madison was here…can't kill the wolf so don't bother. She said it's too late for me."

This wasn't good. Sam's voice had that vague sing-song quality like it used to get when he sleep-walked and talked as a teenager. Maybe Sam's fever had climbed and he was hallucinating. Although less than an hour ago the thermometer had registered 100.

Pressing his foot against the accelerator, Dean bulleted down the highway, thankful that no one else was on this stretch of road. "Listen Sammy, it sounds like you just had a dream. Don't worry about it. I'll be there in a little while."

"But I saw her. She said it was time and I should just get the gun. She said you'd understand."

Sam's voice had gained strength but so had the level of agitation. Dean needed to talk him down. Get him to make sense. "Sam, I'm sure it seemed real but it was just a dream. Madison is dead, remember? She couldn't have stopped by for a visit. Take a deep breath and relax. Can you do that for me?"

Dean could hear his brother moving around. Agitation had been replaced by something less ominous – aggravation. "I know she's dead, Dean, I'm not stupid."

A smile cracked Dean's lips and he pressed them together to prevent a laugh from escaping. Sam was sounding like his feisty little brother again so his worry was notching down. At least his Sam was back. Now he just needed to keep him that way. "Okay, well, I'm about twenty minutes away. Why don't you stay on the line with me until I get there?"

A heavy sigh, completely put out and irritated, tickled Dean's ear. "I'm really tired. Gonna close my eyes, 'kay?"

Sam was leading him through his whole repertoire. Exhaustion seeped from every word and Dean cringed. "Sure thing, bro, sweet dreams."

The call was disconnected and Dean stared at the horizon as he kept the accelerator steady at 90 mph. The wolf/werewolf/dog/whatever creature still needed to be taken care of but Sam came first. Period.

-0-

Embarrassment burned Sam's cheeks a bright red. Dean's call had dragged him out of a dream and he'd been pretty incoherent. Not cool.

Sam wanted to assure Dean that he was fine and could be left on his own but something wasn't right. His head was so fuzzy, he couldn't figure it out but he knew it was important. He needed to tell Dean. But tell Dean what?

He hadn't been lying when he'd said he was tired. He shifted and tried to find a more comfortable position on the bed, and let his eyes close.

_A vision of his mom popped into his head. Long, wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes. Beautiful. Smiling._

_The past couldn't be changed but along with preventing Jess's death, Sam wished with all his heart that he could have known his mom._

_You should have known me, Sam. But you'll never have that chance now. It's your fault I died. You're at fault for a lot of things._

_Sam visibly gulped. This had to be a dream. He pinched his thigh and winced at the pain. No dream then._

_Pay attention, Sam. I want to know why you killed Jessica and Madison. Tell me! _

_He could feel the blood drain away from his face as he stuttered in reply. "I didn't know about the Yellow Eyed Demon. I never would have put Jess in danger like that. You have to believe me!"_

_Is that so? But you knew about her death before it happened. You had those dreams. You should have been paying attention. Just like you should have been paying attention on this last hunt. You could have gotten your brother killed!_

_There really was no defense against his mother's words. He hadn't been at his best and by letting himself get distracted, he had put Dean in danger._

_Dean who was all he had left._

_You know what you have to do to make amends. Madison told you. Get the gun. It's time to end it. Prove to your momma what a brave boy you can be. Do it, Sam. Get the gun._

_Get the gun._

_Get the gun._

"Sam, open your eyes already!"

Eyes snapping open at the sharp command, Sam found Dean inches from his face. They were so close he could count the freckles on his brother's face. One, two, three…

"Hey! I need you to focus here. Tell me how you're feeling."

His brother's voice had an edge to it and Sam knew if he didn't listen, he'd get in trouble. He had to pull himself together."Damn it, Sammy. I'm taking you to the hospital if you don't snap out of this right now."

No hospital. Bad things happened there. He'd almost watched Dean die in the hospital. Twice. And then there was his dad. He had died in the hospital . He'd been walking and talking and telling Sam to get him some coffee one minute and the next he was sprawled on the cool tile, not breathing. Never to breathe again.

Pressure was applied to his cheeks and Sam's eyes skittered to find Dean's again. His brother was clutching Sam's face between his hands, worry etched in the line between his brows.

Sam could do this. "I pinched myself but I still couldn't wake up."

The grip on his face gentled, a hand disappearing only to swipe over his forehead. "It feels like you've still got a low grade fever burning here. I'm going to get you some water and then see if we can make you more comfortable.

Sam tried to get comfortable but his shoulder was throbbing. He thought of what Dean had said earlier – shish-ka-bob Sammy – and he couldn't keep the laughter from bubbling out of his stomach, into his throat and out his mouth.

Only the humor ceased abruptly as he started retching, bile replacing the laughter.

"Easy, Sam. Here's the waste basket. Don't fight it, dude."

Strong, sure hands eased him into a sitting position and rubbed his back as the vile substance slid out of from between his lips in slippery threads of yellow saliva.

At least it was over and Dean shifted him against the head of the bed. Sam closed his eyes as overwhelming fatigue saturated his body. "Rinse. Spit. Swallow."

The trashcan was pried out of his hands and then Sam was eased back down on to his back, grimacing as his tailbone protested the movement.

"Sorry, Sammy. Try to get some rest, let the pills do their work. I'll be right here if you need me."

Sam wanted to thank Dean for taking care of him. And apologize for screwing up.

But his eyes remained stubbornly closed. And then he descended back into his dream world again.

-0-

Sam was down for the count and had been for the last half hour. With his brother resting comfortably, Dean was able to concentrate on himself. He realized two things, one he was hungry and two he stunk.

With the weapons locked away in the trunk and his keys hidden away at the bottom of his duffel, he felt safe leaving a sleeping Sam alone. The talk of using a gun to end it had left Dean on edge.

Sighing, Dean got off of his bed and grabbed his shaving kit. Maybe a quick shower and a meal was just what he needed to make it through the night with his ill brother. Besides Dean tended to do his best thinking in the shower, and Sam's recent condition still had Dean puzzled.

-0-

Sam was looking up werewolves on his laptop when the motel room door opened. Jess walked in, this time wearing the clothes she'd worn the last night he'd seen her alive.

Shit, another dream.

"_Baby, you don't look so happy to see me? I thought you loved me." Jess sat down on the edge of Sam's bed. _

_Laying the laptop aside, Sam reached for Jess. "Oh baby, I do love you."_

_Jess pushed Sam away and stood. "Yeah, you love me so much, you didn't feel the need to warn me that you had dreamt that I died."_

"_I didn't know baby, I swear." Sam tried to sit up but his shoulder pulled and the pain caused him to sit back down._

"_You can fix this you know? All you have to do is get the gun baby. Use it and end it. Then we can forgive you." _

_The door opened and Madison along with his mom walked in. They echoed Jess. "Use it, end it."_

_Sam realized that he would never find peace, never be able to stop his heart from breaking unless he did as they said. He nodded and stood up looking around the room. _

_The weapons bag wasn't in the room. Damn it._

"_The weapons aren't here." He looked at the loves of his life, pleading. "What can I do?"_

_Jess got in his face. "Damn it Sam, you can't do anything right."_

_Mary pulled Jess away and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Baby, we need you to join us. It really is for the better. Think, are there any weapons in the room?"_

_Dean's knife. Sam nodded at him mother, and moved towards Dean's bed. He carefully reached under the pillow and pulled the large hunting knife out. _

_It was his brother's favorite knife, and was always under the pillow. Sam sat down heavily on the bed, and looked up at his mother._

"_You know what to do sweetie." And with that she and the other two disappeared._

_Sam sighed and gripped the knife, and slowly ran the knife up and down his left forearm. Picturing the blood that would soon flow, and he hoped that Dean would forgive him._

-0-

Dean felt better after the shower. He'd toweled off and then wrapped it around him. Clean clothes were still in the other room, in his exhaustion he'd forgotten to bring a set in with him.

Exiting in a cloud of steam, he tried to keep the noise down, afraid of waking Sam. He was shocked to see that Sam was sitting up.

Dean heart stopped when he realized that Sam was sitting on Dean's bed with his knife in his hands. His younger brother was once again in a trance like state, running the knife up and down his forearm.

"Sammy, put the knife down." Dean tried to keep his voice down, not wanting to startle his brother.

Unfortunately, his brother didn't react at all. He continued to stare at the knife.

Dean slowly approached his brother. "Sammy, I really need you to put the knife down."

Sam didn't look up or acknowledge Dean in anyway instead, the kid pushed the knife down on the skin.

Dean shot into action. He rushed to his brother's side and had the knife out of the kid's hand in a matter of seconds. Sam had managed to make a few shallow cuts, but Dean could live with that.

Seeming to snap out of it. Sam looked up at Dean holding the knife, his face full of confusion. The kid's nose had started to bleed and Dean was trying to decide what to take care of first.

"D-n?" Sam's voice was small.

"Sammy, stay put. I'm putting the knife away, then we'll take care of cleaning your nose and those cuts." Dean kept Sam's eye contact until the boy nodded in understanding.

Dean placed his knife in the bottom of his duffel. He quickly grabbed a pair of boxers and slipped them on underneath the towel as he made his way into the bathroom grabbing a couple of hand cloths and wetting them.

Dean kneeled in front of Sam and took his brother's left hand into his and sized up the cuts.

"W-What happened?" Sam's eyes were still a bit glazed and his voice shaky.

Dean took a calming breath. Screaming at Sam out of frustration was foremost on Dean's mind, but he could tell that his little brother had not been in control while holding the knife. He needed to be patient with his rattled brother and he needed to figure out what was going on with Sam.

"Sammy, when I came out of the shower, you were sitting on my bed with my knife hovering above your arm. As I approached, your trance like self wouldn't acknowledge me, and then decided to cut your arm. I know you weren't in control, but do you remember anything about this?" Dean stopped cleaning the wound and waited for Sam to respond.

"N-No, I remember being really tired and falling asleep and that's it. I've been having really weird dreams Dean. I know their intense but I can't...I really can't remember much about them. Sorry, this just sucks." Sam hunched in on himself in defeat.

"Something is going on with your dreams and I'm beginning to think that something is messing with you while you're asleep. Nightmares cause night sweats and maybe sleep walking but not suicide attempts, that's just..." Dean couldn't finish.

Sam looked at Dean with hurt on his face. "It's just crazy, right? Am I crazy Dean?"

"Hell no." Dean handed the other wash cloth. "Sam we'll figure this out. In the meantime, clean up your nose while I take care of these cuts. Then we both need some food for energy. We need to do some research."

Sam seemed to brighten at the word research. Dean just hoped that research would bring them an answer.

TBC

**A/N: A big thanks to BlueEyedDemonLiz for her help with the beta work. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it is very appreciated. We hope to have more up soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

Dream Weaver

Chapter Six

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Sam had awakened to Dean manhandling him. It was a scary moment as he watched Dean yank a knife, _Dean's knife_ from his grasp. Then there was the cut in his right forearm. _What the hell?_

Things were spiraling out of control, and it scared the crap out of him and he could tell Dean shared his apprehension. It felt like he was loosing his mind and that was not a good feeling. Something else was in control of his dreams, that was Dean's thoughts and Sam was beginning to share that opinion.

Now to find out what. After a quick meal of delivered pizza, both he and Dean had hunkered down with their dad's notebook and the laptop.

"Dean have you found anything in Dad's journal?" Sam had been frustrated so far on his search on the internet.

"Nope, well actually the problem is that there are lots of dream demons and Dad has notes on some of them but never dealt with one personally." Dean huffed.

"Same here, we really don't have much to go on." Sam sighed. "So what now? Wait around until I hurt you or myself?"

"Sam, I...don't be silly." Dean slammed their dad's notebook down.

"I'm serious Dean, I've become unstable. Maybe I need to be committed." Sam slammed the laptop shut.

"Dude, don't get your panties in a wad. We're not out of options. I'm calling Bobby, try and relax." Dean grabbed his cell phone and walked to the motel door.

"Dean, we shouldn't bother..."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You want to deal with Bobby if we don't tell him? He's already gonna yell at me and call me an idgit for waiting this long. So stow it and try and relax."

"Fine."

-0-

Sam stretched out on the bed again. The wound in his shoulder was making itself known and the rest of him didn't feel so great either.

Despite his discomfort, a smile slid across his face as he listened to the tail end of his brother's side of the conversation with Bobby Singer.

"No, I'm not completely stupid."

"You already said that."

"Now Bobby, there's no need to call me that…well, yes. No, that didn't occur to me."

Dean gave a heartfelt sigh and Sam's smile widened. It was never fun being on the end of a dressing down but you had to hand it to Bobby, he had style.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

Sam's attention shifted back to his brother and he realized Dean was talking to him. "Just sore. And tired. But I'm kind of afraid to close my eyes. I don't want to dream."

He hadn't meant to say that out loud and when he saw the fear and concern on his sibling's face, he felt awful. Dean didn't need the added burden of a useless little brother.

Maybe Sam should just put an end to his miserable existence.

Whoa, where had that come from?

"Sam, are you listening to me? I told Bobby we'd head for his place tomorrow morning if you felt up to it. He's not sure what's causing your, um, symptoms, but by the time we pull in there he'll probably have it figured out."

Nibbling at his lower lip, Sam debated with himself. Should he confess his suicidal thoughts? What if he lost control and hurt Dean?

-0-

His conversation with Bobby had been no picnic but he'd escaped with one idget and two boneheads so he figured he'd acquitted himself fairly well.

It wasn't really his fault that Sam attracted trouble like nails to a magnet. He still wasn't sure if a werewolf had toyed with his brother of if it had been some sort of wolf or dog but the branch that had blossomed out of Sam's shoulder like a demented flower had certainly been real enough.

And now Sam was concussed and confused or he was…no, Dean refused to think Sam's current problems had anything to do with his situation.

But something was definitely up with his baby brother.

Sam was blinking up at him with a strained expression. Not exactly pain. His voice was clear and strong but his words weren't exactly lucid. "Dean, I think you might need to rethink the mental institution idea. I'm having some really weird thoughts here."

A slick of sweat was glistening on Sam's face again and he was pretty sure a fever was brewing. Pushing the lank bangs back, Dean perched next to his brother's recumbent body. "What do you mean? What kind of thoughts?"

His brother visibly swallowed, his eyes sliding away to glance around the room. "You locked up all of the weapons, right?"

So much for Sam snapping out of it. Tremors were rippling through his body and his eyes had that vague, glazed look about them. Like he was fading away despite Dean's best efforts. "I took care of it, Sammy. Just relax. I'll watch over you and in the morning, we'll head for Bobby's."

Sam nodded his head yes but his eyes stared at Dean, beseeching.

Dean hoped like hell that Bobby would figure this thing out because Dean was not going to let Sam slip away without a fight.

If only he could figure out where to channel that fight.

-0-

Sam shifted on the backseat of the Impala. He'd find a comfortable position but it would last for what seemed like only minutes before the discomfort made him squirm again.

Screw discomfort. It was pain. Gnawing, insidious pain that clawed at his left shoulder. The pain killer made him dopey and the last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep so he'd turned down the offer before they left Arkansas.

Sleep meant dreams.

His tailbone ached with a ferociousness that told Sam it was time to find a new position again. In an attempt to cover the hiss of pain that accompanied each movement, Sam forced himself to make small talk. "How much longer, Dean?"

Dean's head swiveled around and a concerned look raked over his body. Sam bit down on his lower lip, willing his body not to tremble.

Dean's head swiveled forward again, much to Sam's relief, as he answered his question. "Is that the college version of 'are we there yet?' Cause we're not but we're making good time, we're about to hit the merge for 435. I think I'll get off after that and find us a place to eat. It'll be another five hours before we make Bobby's."

The thought of food made Sam's stomached clench with fear. Breakfast had been a no-go due to the constant churning in the pit of his stomach; the nausea had finally abated but Sam wasn't in a hurry to introduce anything into his system that might mess with its delicate balance.

Raising a shaky hand to his forehead, he pushed the lank bangs off his skin. He's barely managed a two minute shower this morning, his legs threatening to dump him on his ass throughout the whole maneuver, and he felt unclean. He couldn't wait to get to Bobby's and if it was just his call, they'd drive straight through. But Dean was a bottomless pit when it came to feeding so he knew they'd be stopping. "I really don't think I could eat anything but I know you must be starving by now so stop whenever you want."

The Impala hit a bump and Sam couldn't contain the hiss of pain. Stupid branch. Stupid hunt. The whole trip had been ill conceived. It's too bad he couldn't call a do-over. He'd tell his brother he wasn't up to anything having to do with a werewolf and that would be that. They'd pick another hunt and Sam would be sitting in the passenger seat, grumbling under his breath about Dean's off-key singing instead of spread over the backseat, whimpering like a sissy every time the car hit a dip in the road.

Cool air washed over Sam's face and he relished it. "Come on, Sam, you need to eat something so you can take the antibiotic. Can't take it on an empty stomach."

Startled, Sam realized they weren't moving and in fact Dean was standing next to the open door, cajoling him. Chagrined that he'd spaced out while his brother found some place to stop, Sam frowned. His stomach picked that moment to make an embarrassing groan. "I'm sorry, Dean, I don't think eating is a good idea."

He expected Dean to put his hands on his hips and scowl but instead Dean capitulated. "I'm going to grab a sandwich, I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay put."

Sam relaxed against the seat after Dean shut the heavy door with a resounding bang. The noise made his head ache but he had to admit it was better than it had been.

Everything seemed to be on the mend except his mind. He still couldn't believe he'd toyed with Dean's knife, cutting criss-crosses into the skin on his forearm. He was kind of surprised Dean had left him alone but since he was awake, everything should be okay.

It was when he closed his eyes that things took a turn for the worse.

His thoughts scattered and drifted until the backseat door popped open again and Dean poked his head inside. "Here, I got you some crackers. "

His brother handed him a cellophane package, already opened. Sam's nose crinkled in distaste but he knew Dean was right, he needed something in his stomach or else the pills would chew him up. He pulled out a saltine and took a bite of it. It actually tasted okay and after a few more nibbles, his GI tract actually settled some.

The empty cellophane wrapper was replaced with three pills. "What are these?"

He didn't mean to sound so distrustful but Sam didn't want anything except the antibiotic. "Just take them, Sam."

Sam didn't have the resources to argue and threw the pills into his mouth. Dean handed him a bottled water and Sam swallowed the pills, willing them to slide down and not lodge in his throat. Yuck, he hated the tasted of pills.

Shifting his weight up on his uninjured arm, Sam searched for a new comfortable position. Strong arms redistributed his weight and settled him more comfortably against the seat. His legs continued to dangle on to the floor but unless he cut them off, there was no room for all of him to fit on the bench seat.

Something soft cushioned his head and Sam picked up Dean's scent – part aftershave, part gunpowder. His brother had wadded up a sweatshirt and it was now pillowing his head.

His muzzy head.

"I don't want to sleep, Dean."

Calloused fingers touched his forehead. "I know, Sammy. But I'll watch over you. I'll wake you up if you're having a dream, okay?"

It wasn't okay but there was nothing Sam could do about it as he slid into darkness.

TBC

**A/N: Once again we need to thank BlueEyeDemonLiz for her beta skills on this. We are both very happy that the birthday girl, Floralia is enjoying the story. Feedback is always appreciated. **

**So is everyone as nervious as I am about tonights eppy? Finales are always rough. **


	7. Chapter 7

Dream Weaver

Chapter 7

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

The kid was miserable and refused to take anything for the pain and it was making Dean crazy. With each shift and sigh, Dean felt like jumping over the seat and shoving the Vicodin down Sam's throat.

They'd hit the road around 9 AM, after Sam took the fastest shower ever and declined all offers of food. His fever was down and his color was better so there really wasn't a reason to delay heading for Bobby's. The injuries, although painful, weren't life threatening. At least if Dean could keep shoving the antibiotics into Sam.

The weird dreams and the thing with the knife were enough to send Dean's worry meter into overdrive but all of the weapons were secured. He just needed to get them to Bobby's and they'd figure it out.

Dean kept checking his rearview mirror and trying to covertly turn his head and check on his sibling's progress; with each mile they traveled, Sam seemed to be weaker. The hand that pushed the hair off the frowning face was weak and trembled. Sam's color had washed out, no sign of suntanned skin anymore. And his brother's voice was soft and cracked with distress.

What little energy Sam had woken up with had quickly fled. The kid needed rest. The pain had to be dealt with, and fast.

Remembering that a sick Sam tended to do well with saltines, Dean had flirted with the clerk behind the counter who had graciously given him some when he bought his ham and swiss. Finally, Dean was able to get Sam to take the damn pain pill.

Sam quickly succumbed to sleep and it was with great relief that Dean made for the interstate. He continued to keep one eye on the slumbering giant in the backseat while his other eye scanned the asphalt ahead.

Dean felt like he'd made the right choice about strong arming Sam into taking the pain pill while the Impala streaked toward Bobby's. He'd played the License Plate game but had quickly become bored with it and abandoned it for a round of slug-bug ; he hated the new VW Beetles but he always enjoyed slugging something when one came into view. Of course slugging Sam was much more amusing then slugging the passenger seat.

Needing some sort of stimulation, he'd popped in the cassette of Rainbow's Bent Out of Shape, hoping the mellow vocals of Joe Lynn Turner would continue to sooth Sam. Dean preferred Ronnie James Dio but the man could caterwaul with the best of them and it wasn't conducive to resting.

Street of Dreams had just started playing when a strange whistling noise grated against his ears. Down went the volume on the stereo.

Wheezing.

Sam was in distress.

Dean guided the Impala to the shoulder of the road, slammed it into park, slid over the bench seat and was sliding out the front passenger door within seconds. He scrabbled at the back door, yanking it open with haste.

Hands shaking, Dean touched Sam's cheek, expecting the dry heat of fever. Sam's cheek was blissfully cool albeit pale. But the noises Sam's lungs were making as they worked to pull in air were horrible. "Sammy, wake up."

Sam's hazel eyes, shot open, blood shot and dazed. His throat worked convulsively, air rasping through his windpipe. His hand tangled in the fabric of Dean's shirt, weakly grasping.

Nostrils flaring, Sam's eyes pleaded with Dean to fix him, fix his breathing.

Dean pulled Sam into a sitting position, mindful of the injured shoulder but still noticing the way his brother tensed at the movement. "Easy, bro, I've got you."

Muttering a steady stream of encouragement, Dean rubbed one hand at the back of Sam's neck, his other hand steadying his brother. It seemed like an hour but was probably only a minute or two when Sam's breathing eased.

The tension fled Sam's body in small increments until Dean was left with a pliant brother resting in his arms. "Nightmare?"

The nightmares Dean suffered from didn't compromise his breathing but Sam had always been different.

Sam pushed away from Dean to lean against the back of the seat, body at a diagonal. His hand pushed weakly at his bangs again and Dean noticed the tremor in them. His brother was weakening. "I don't know. I'm okay. We there yet?"

The timbre of Sam's voice was right, but so soft that Dean had to lean closer to hear the words. And then Sam's question hit him. Sam was fine. "No, doofus, we're not there yet. But 42 should be just ahead." At the wrinkle in Sam's forehead, Dean elaborated. "We're about thirty minutes out from Bobby's. Just try to relax and we'll be there before you know it."

Dean winced at his own words. If his little brother relaxed any further into the cushion of the seat, he would melt into it and disappear. Unsure if he should haul Sam's ass into the front seat with him or let him be, Dean decided time was of the essence; he needed to get them moving again before some idiot plowed into the parked Impala.

They'd be at Singer Salvage Yard soon. Bobby would know what to do for Sam. Dean held on to that thought as he signaled and pulled back on to the road.

Sam appeared to be absolutely drained and that wouldn't do. Not on Dean's watch.

-0-

Sam could feel the car slowing to a stop, he hoped that meant that they had finally arrived at Bobby's house. He limbs couldn't take being cramped up in the backseat for much longer.

At least the meds that Dean had given him, were still working to keep the ache out of his shoulder.

Sam was pulled from his mental assessment of his body by the door his feet were propped against opening.

"Oh wow, look he's awake. We're here Sammy." Dean's tone was light but Sam could see the concern etched in his face.

"Sorry about asking every five minutes..." Sam's fuzzy head seemed to recall him asking Dean every waking moment if they were there yet.

"It's fine Sammy, not like when you were young and knew better, this time you were a bit out of it. I opened this door cause I didn't want you falling out head first if you were still out of it, but I think I'll move around and open the other door. It'll be easier to get you out."

Dean went to close the door when Sam protested. "Wait, I can..."

"I don't think so dude." The door slammed shut and Sam scooted over, waiting for the door he'd been leaning against to open.

It surprised him a bit to find Bobby standing there with the open door. "Hey Sam, ready to get out of this sardine can?"

Sam gave Bobby a welcoming smile and nodded. "Yeah, I'm getting a bit stiff."

Dean huffed with no heat. "Dude, this car is not a sardine can, it's roomy, the boy is just abnormally large is all."

Sam slowly planted his feet on solid ground and used his good arm to push himself out of the car.

Bobby quickly grabbed him under one arm and Dean the other. Sam wanted to pull away, feeling foolish needing help like an old man, but he knew he'd fall on his ass if they let go.

Bobby's gravelly voice spoke next to Sam's ear, it almost made him wince. "Dean, any vehicle feels like a sardine can if you have to sleep in it. I didn't mean to insult your baby."

Dean shifted Sam's weight. "Yeah, well Sam knows he's big, so do I need to apologize bro?"

"No shorty, you don't." Sam was proud that his statement came out loudly and not shaky.

Bobby laughed at Sam's retort and then maneuvered out from under Sam's shoulder. "I'll uh get the door."

Dean nodded as they approached the front door. "Alright Sammy, use your good arm to hold on to the railing, we have three steps we need to climb. Nice and slow, okay?"

Sam nodded. He used his good arm and hand to grab the railing and made his way up the three stairs. Bobby rejoined them at the top and helped Sam make it inside.

"So boys, for now, I think the couch?" Bobby helped Dean maneuver Sam to the couch.

"Uh, I'm kind of thinking Sam will be staying on the couch, I'll take the floor of course." Dean's face was scrunched up in confusion.

Bobby laughed. "No you idgit, I didn't mean... Hell I guess I forgot to tell ya. It seems that you two need a place to crash from time to time so... I well I cleaned out one of the spare rooms. I moved the books around and then I found a good deal on a couple of twin beds at the local thrift store, so you have a place to sleep now."

Sam swallowed the emotional lump that was forming in his throat and he could see that Dean was also fighting emotions. They hadn't had a room to call their own since they were kids and stayed at Jim's.

This was big and almost more than their tired minds could take.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Well, anyway I'll show it to you later. Uh, I think I'll make us some coffee while we wait on dinner."

Sam nodded. "Thanks Bobby."

Dean echoed. "Yeah thanks."

Dean slumped down in the easy chair next to the couch.

"We rate higher than his books." Dean mumbled out.

"Apparently. Wow." Sam was still having trouble sorting it out.

-0-

After the shock of Bobby's announcement, Sam seemed to deflate and it didn't shock Dean when the kid was out in a few minutes.

Dean watched as Bobby re-entered with coffee mugs. Dean motioned at Sam and pointed towards Bobby's office area that was across the room. It would allow them to talk but Dean would be close enough to keep an eye on Sam.

Bobby placed the coffee mugs on the desk and sat in the seat behind the it. Dean pulled chair and set across from him, grabbing his mug as he sat.

The bitter brew was welcome, and Dean hoped that the caffeine would help him to continue to function on empty.

After taking a sip, Dean decided he needed to get down to business. "So Bobby what have you found?"

Bobby sat his mug down and pulled out some notes. "I'm betting on a dream demon. I've never gone up against one, but Sam's nightmares seem to fit pattern. Unfortunately, there is a lot of lore out there on dream demons. Their found all over Europe, in fact the word nightmare comes from a _mara, _an Anglo-Saxon and Old Norse term for a demon that sat on sleepers' chests, causing them to have bad dreams."

Dean huffed. "I think I would have seen..."

"Not necessarily boy. succubus and incubus both are known to feed on a person in dream state. They are cloaked so not visible to the naked eye." Bobby paused and took another drink of coffee.

"I know it's not a sex demon, Sam's not having **those** kind of dreams." Dean replied, upset with the idea that something could attack his brother right under his eyes and he not know it.

"Yeah, you'd know it that was what you were dealing with. And if these dreams hadn't happened before the werewolf attack, I would be wondering if it was caused by a supernatural infection. It has to be some sort of dream demon and we need to get a handle on it soon." Bobby's voice softened and his voice was full of concern.

"Bobby, I know it's bad, he's having suicidal thoughts and... if I hadn't caught him the other day." Dean stopped unable to go on.

"Yeah, I know and that is part of the MO of a lot of these dream demons I read about. They feed on the fear of the dream, and the dreams are so intense, so real that the victim is either driven mad or is driven to kill themself. So we need to get stop this thing as soon as possible." Bobby sighed.

"Any ideas? I mean, is there a ritual?" Dean could pick up on the fact that the elder hunter was frustrated and that scared him. They needed answers and they needed them now.

"We need to find out what we're dealing with. A dreamcatcher was mentioned in a few of the books I read as a way to de-cloak a demon so I made some calls. The only hunter I found that had dealt with this before used a dreamcatcher and it worked for him so, I say we try that first." Bobby's voice wasn't as confident as Dean would have liked but at least they had something to go on.

"If it doesn't work?" Dean hoped Bobby had a back up plan because dealing with much more of Sam suffering was not an option, not on his watch.

"I have a few protection sigils that I could paint on the walls above his bed that might work. I really think that de-cloaking the thing will be the easy part though. The dreamcatcher will more than likely work and if not one of the sigils will. The part I'm concerned with is the process we're going to have to go through to get rid of this thing. It's not gonna be pretty." Bobby sighed and looked away.

"What is that supposed to mean Bobby?" Dean could hear the anger creeping in his voice and he fought to keep the volume down, not wanting to wake his brother who seemed to be sleeping peacefully at the moment.

"It means, that once we reveal the demon, we can't just kill it. I need to know what kind it is before we can actually deal with it."

Before Bobby could continue Dean interrupted. "So we have to let this thing feed on Sam even after we see it? Hell no!"

"We can't attack it if we don't know how to stop it, that would be stupid and would put Sam at risk. I'm not saying we stand by and watch it feed, but we don't attack it. We observe it and then wake Sam and stop the feeding. Then we keep Sam up until we have a ritual in place to protect him and to kill the demon." Bobby's voice was tight as he controlled his own emotions.

"How are we gonna do that? Sam keeps falling asleep- it's hard to keep him awake." Dean sighed loudly in frustration.

"Yeah, I told you it wouldn't be easy. I hate this boy, I do, but it's what's got to be done. And there's one other thing, you should know." Bobby paused, body tense.

"Hit me." Dean waited with a knot in his stomach.

"None of the ritual's I read up on are a piece of cake. They are going to cause emotional and physical pain, no matter which one we use. But Sam's strong, I'm sure he'll be fine." Bobby replied with a sure tone, but Dean could see the doubt in Bobby's eyes.

"Yeah, well, when has things ever been easy for us? Let's just save that bit of information until we have to deal with it. No use Sammy worrying about it, he has enough on his plate."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah speaking of the kid, I need to check on dinner. I placed one of those frozen pasta dishes in he likes. I need to throw the bread in and cut up a salad."

Dean snickered. "Dude, you're gonna cut up a salad."

"I'm gonna cut you up if you say another word. Sam needs to eat right especially with everything he's been dealing with." Bobby stood up and walked around the desk.

Dean followed grabbing his mug. "Yeah the kid has been through the ringer, a hearty meal with do him good. I'll follow you, Sam seems to be resting okay, and I need to another cup of coffee."

-0-

_Sam why have you disobeyed us? _

Sam was still on Bobby's couch, his mother was standing over him.

"Dean, doesn't want...."

_As your mom, don't you think I know what's best? For you and Dean? Dean will be so much better off without you._

"He took the weapons." Sam replied quietly.

_You'll find away, surely Bobby has something here, Baby._

"Yes mother, I'm sure he does. I'll find something."

Mary nodded and faded away. He glanced around the room and realized he was alone, so now was his chance to end it.

Searching the room for a weapon, Sam spied Bobby's desk. It only took his eyes a moment to spot the shiny letter opener that was lying across some papers.

Sam remembered Bobby showing him that opener years ago, when he was still a teen learning about the evils in the world. Bobby had said it was a gift from another hunter and made of pure silver so if he was ever caught in his house without a weapon he'd have the opener.

The letter opener was sharper than most but still not as sharp as a knife, but it would have to work.

Sam made his way quietly across the room. He rolled up his sleeve and ripped the bandages away from his previous try. The younger Winchester sat down in Bobby's desk chair and methodically used the sharp letter opener to reopen the cuts in his arm. They were shallow, and needed to be deeper.

He took a deep calming breath. Sam could hear his dad's voice in his head. _Breathe through the pain you can do it Sammy. _

Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of leaving Dean, he didn't want to but it was for the best right? It was hard work using the letter opener but Sam soon had one of the cuts deep enough were to a point where it was freely bleeding.

_I need to get to the bathroom, it wouldn't do good to be discovered before I bleed out. _

Sam rose from his seat, and that's when his world started closing in on him, he made it through the bathroom door and closed it.

With the darkness creeping in on him- his last thought was- _I'm sorry Dean- _as unconsciousness claimed him.

-0-

Dean made his way back from the kitchen, another piping hot mug of coffee clutched in his hand.

He'd left his brother sleeping on the couch and now the couch was empty. A sick feeling fluttered in his stomach. Crossing to the closed bathroom floor, Dean rapped on it twice. "Sammy?"

Nothing.

Sam would have had to walk by the kitchen to get out the front door and the only other way out of the living room was out the window and that was closed. His brother had to be in the bathroom. "Sam, if you don't answer me, I'm coming in!"

Silence greeted his announcement. Dean took it as an invitation and opened the door, pushing it cautiously open. It opened partway before he felt resistance. Looking down he saw Sam's long legs stretched out, blocking the door. "Damn it, Sam."

It took more time than he liked but Dean finally rolled Sam's limbs out of the way enough to gain enough room to slide inside. The bathroom was tiny but it seemed as though every square inch of the tile was taken up by his 6'4" sibling.

Legs straddling his brother's body, Dean leaned over and took inventory. There was a red mark on Sam's cheek, possibly from where his head connected with the sink on his way down to the floor. Sam was breathing at a nice, steady cadence and Dean found his pulse, slow and sure, as soon as his fingers touched the side of his brother's neck.

A trickle of red seeped from beneath Sam's sleeve and when Dean pulled it back, he found deep gouges. The marks followed the same tracks from Sam's previous tangle with Dean's knife. A silver letter opener with blood stains lay underneath Sam.

Sensing a presence behind him, Dean turned his head to find Bobby in the doorway. The wise eyes quickly took in the scene. "I'll be back with the first aid kit."

By the time Dean rolled back Sam's shirt, Bobby was back with his kit. He quickly cleaned and wrapped the abused arm, internally squirming at how pliant it was in his grip. Sam had accumulated many injuries over the years and that was the one part of hunting Dean had never come to terms with – his little brother hurt and unconscious. Although this time Sam hadn't been hurt in the line of duty, it was self inflicted.

Suppressing a shiver, Dean patted Sam's unmarred cheek. "Sammy, time to wake up."

Much to his surprise, hazel eyes squinted up at him. "Dean?"

A smile of relief broke across Dean's face. "The one and only. How are you feeling?"

Dean wanted to pepper his brother with questions but the glazed eyes told him he'd have to wait. Sam's next words confirmed his feeling. "What am I doing on the floor?"

Grabbing Sam's right hand, Dean prepared to remedy that problem. "Good question. How about I help you up and then we can figure it out together?"

Sam's movements were sluggish but he followed Dean's directions and soon he was up on his feet, Dean supporting some of his weight until he maneuvered him out the door and Bobby could prop up the other side. They slowly made their way to the couch and when they turned Sam around, his legs collapsed out from under him, dumping him onto the cushion.

Heart racing with concern, Dean's practiced hands swept across the back of Sam's head. He found the lump sustained at the camp ground but nothing new. Next he levered Sam forward and checked the bandage on Sam's left shoulder blade but it felt dry. His brother tensed and tried to push away but Dean easily subdued the attempt, catching and holding Sam's right hand in his own. "It's okay, Sam. I'm just making sure you're still all in one piece."

His brother subsided against him, eyes drooping. "That's it. Just relax."

Casting worried eyes at Bobby, he found the older hunter scrunching up his nose. "Shit, I think dinner is burning."

The comment broke the tension and Dean laughed. Bobby ran from the living room in an attempt to salvage some of their meal. Turning his head back to share the humor with his brother, he found Sam's head tilted back against the couch, sleeping again.

"Well, dinner is a complete loss. Except for the salad."

It was Dean's turn to wrinkle up his nose. Salad, yuck. They had more pressing matters to attend to anyway, his stomach would have to wait. "Do you think we could hang the dreamcatcher and try to find the demon? I don't know how much more of this Sam can take."

A warm hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing. "You make Sam comfortable and I'll get the dreamcatcher. It doesn't make sense to haul the kid into the spare bedroom so we'll just make do out here."

Dean easily maneuvered Sam flat, marveling at the way his usually light sleeper of a brother remained out. The dark circles under Sam's eyes were a testament to how little rest the kid was actually getting. They needed to put an end to things and soon. Before he lost Sam.

Because losing Sam wasn't an option.

TBC

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading and especially to those who have left reviews. They are much appreciated. Once again a big thanks to BlueEyeDemonLiz for her beta work.**

**Wow, what a finale huh? Now we have to wait darn it! Hate that part.**

**I just wanted to take a moment to mention something fun. Faye Dartmouth and Sendintheclowns are putting on a Summer Fic Exchange. Summer of Sam Love!**

**Here's a bit of information-**

_**At the end of the fourth season, Sam Winchester is having a bad go of things. His failure is epic, but his intentions inherently noble. Things don't look so good for our favorite geekboy, so it's time to show him just how loved he is.**_

The project is simple: fic that celebrates Sam Winchester. We need fic to highlight how awesome Sam is on every level. His strength, his courage, his angst, his sacrifice, his smarts, his hunting skills--you name it, we want to celebrate it. We thought the best way to do this would be in the form of a fic exchange. The process will be straightforward (and not nearly as complicated as it looks!).

_**So, get the word out. This summer, let's remind each other and the rest of fandom just how awesome Sam Winchester is. **_

**I've put the link to this Live Journal Community at my profile so check it out!**

**We hope to have another chapter up in a week. Thanks for reading! :0)**


	8. Chapter 8

Dream Weaver

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Chapter 8

Sam woke up on a hard surface to find his brother hovering over him.

Dean was speaking to him but it sounded like he was under water. Or Sam was. He couldn't understand some of what Dean said to him but he got the part about getting up.

Sam hated this with a passion. He needed to be in control – his sanity depended on it – but he was anything but at the moment. It was as though something else was calling the shots and Sam was simply a passenger, along for the ride.

His brother coaxed him into a sitting position. The back of his head and his tailbone ached again and both the front and the back of his shoulder throbbed. There was also a new pain to keep him on his toes – his right forearm. It felt like there were sharp teeth gnawing at the skin, sucking at the blood.

The world tilted and Sam found himself shuffling his feet. It took everything he had to remain upright and when he was turned around yet again, his legs decided they could no longer hold his weight. He sunk down, but instead of colliding with a hard surface he found himself sitting on something soft and lumpy.

Fingers pushed at the back of his head. Sam winced and tried to tug away but by the time he worked up the energy, the fingers had moved to his injured shoulder. Pinching and prodding and Sam couldn't take it anymore, blindly swinging out. His hand was caught and he couldn't tug it away.

"It's okay, Sam. I'm just making sure you're still all in one piece."

Dean. His brother was there. Dean would take care of him.

He quit struggling and let himself sink into his brother's warmth. "That's it. Just relax."

He smelled something. Like something was burning. He wanted to warn Dean but his eyes wouldn't stay open and then he forgot what he wanted to tell him.

So much for control. Sam let it all go and stopped worrying.

-0-

Dean pushed Sam's shaggy hair off his face. He didn't know how Sam could stand it, it would drive Dean crazy always trying to peer through it, vision obscured. But Sam without his floppy hair wouldn't be Sam.

Now they just needed to fix things so his brother was okay.

"Here's the dreamcatcher. Once I've got it hung, we'll need to move to the other side of the room."

Bobby, ever resourceful, hauled a floor lamp over and tied the dreamcatcher to it. No blue or silver or other bright colors decorated the artifact – it was brown and made of sinew strands woven around the frame of willow with the resultant hole in the middle. Leave it to Bobby to have an authentic dreamweaver on hand.

The wizened hunter pulled Dean across the room, physically breaking the contact between the brothers. Dean didn't like the separation but if this is what it took to stop the thing tearing away at Sammy piece by piece, then Dean would suck it up.

Pushing Dean into a chair, Bobby quickly moved around the room, depositing and lighting a black candle in all four corners. It was bad mojo to use black candles but Dean trusted that Bobby knew what he was doing. After all, they were trying to call out a dream demon so bad mojo seemed the order of the day.

The baseball capped hunter barely made it back to Dean's position before Sam started thrashing on the couch. Dean's muscles tensed and if Bobby hadn't stayed him with a hand to a shoulder, he would have been across the room to comfort Sam in seconds.

Instead a vision began to blink in and out, hovering over Sam's chest.

A sable haired wolf with almond shaped hazel eyes lifted its head and pulled back its lips, a mockery of a smile passing over its face.

Sam's breathing become, harsh, labored. His head tossed against the faded cushion, his face pulling into a deep frown.

Bobby threw something glittery into the nearest candle and said a few words in Latin. The wolf sitting on Sam's chest morphed into a black blob devoid of features. It snarled its rage first toward Bobby and Dean and then turned its attention to Sam.

"That's what we needed. Time to wake up your brother!" Dean didn't need to hear those words, he was already on his feet and moving toward Sam's side. Nothing was going to mess with his brother, not without going through Dean first.

Tangling his fingers around Sam's lax hand, Dean squeezed. "Come on, Sammy, time to rise and shine!"

Dean didn't want to hurt his brother but time was of the essence, the darkness sitting on Sam's chest refusing to budge. Swiping his free hand toward the darkness, Dean flinched as his hand met cold air and no resistance.

Yanking on Sam's hand, he jerked his brother into a sitting position. Sam's weight was suspended by his bad arm, his brother gasping at the movement.

The black void lifted, melting into the air.

Sam's eyes flew open, wide with pain. He shook off Dean's hold to cradle his sore shoulder.

Accusing eyes stared at Dean in wide disbelief. "Why?"

His brother didn't know what was going on, he only knew that Dean had hurt him. One minute sleeping, the next ripped into wakefulness wrought with pain.

Sam's trust in Dean was so solid, he allowed himself to be pulled into an awkward hug. Dean tried to assuage the pain by rubbing his brother's back lightly, cradling the back of his head with his other hand. "I think we found the problem, Sammy. You're going to be better in no time at all."

Sam's weight leaned groggily into Dean's embrace, the sharp pain of the brutal wake-up call forgotten.

His little brother didn't ask any questions, allowing himself to be comforted. Things were definitely in a bad way for Sam to allow such contact without question.

Turning his head, Dean saw the older hunter over his shoulder. Standing guard. "That was the thing that attacked Sam at the campground. What the hell was it?"

The older man scratched the whiskers on his chin. "That was the dream demon's avatar – its physical representation. And according to one of the grimoire's, that was the highest dream demon in the hierarchy."

Dean soaked up Sam's presence, the younger man rested peacefully against his chest. They'd shrugged off such intimacy for so long, cloaking their affection in sharp barbs instead, Dean had almost forgotten what a gift it was to have Sam at his side, trusting in him. He patted the too long hair affectionately. "Nothing but the best for my boy."

Bobby snorted before moving off to blow out the candles.

Now that they knew what they were dealing with, Dean felt like they had a real shot at stopping it. That this all wasn't just some shot in the dark.

-0-

Sam gasped for breath, something horrible was attacking his sense of smell, waking him from his deep slumber.

"D-Dean!" Sam tried to pull away from the assault on his senses.

Expecting his brother to be the reason for the unpleasant awaking, he was shocked to find Bobby holding the offending smell under his nose.

Bobby pulled the small vile away and set it on the coffee table next to the couch.

"Sorry Sam, but we needed you awake and normal methods were not working." Bobby sighed as he got up.

Dean approached from the other side of the room, fanning the smell away from his nose as he got closer. "What was that exactly Bobby?"

Sam turned to Bobby, waiting for the man to answer Dean.

"Hunter's smelling salts, an old family recipe."

Dean smirked. "Remind me never to get a copy of that recipe."

"Smartass." Bobby retorted as he gathered up the vile and put a lid on it.

Sam smiled and tried to sit up. His injuries over the last few days were making themselves known. It was his arm that hurt the most, which was confusing considering how shallow the cuts had been.

As he studied his arm he noticed new bandages had been applied.

"Dean, uh, what's up with my arm?" Sam watched as Dean's smile fell and he gave Sam a serious expression. One that Sam knew well, his brother had worn it anytime there was something that needed to be said that was unpleasant.

"Sammy, you hurt it again. Not badly, but it'll be smarting for awhile. Do you want some pain meds for it?"

Sam felt anger bubbling up. Something had happened to his arm, and he didn't even remember it. Being so out of it and not in control was taking a toll.

"No, I don't want pain meds. I-I want to know what happened to my arm?" Sam winced as his body tensed in anger.

"Calm down Sammy, it's okay. You just fell on it on the way to the bathroom, it opened the wounds up a bit. You'll be fine." Dean had trouble looking Sam in the eye as he spoke and Sam knew his brother was hiding something from him.

"I don't remember going to the bathroom." Sam replied quietly.

"Dean, I think Sam deserves to know exactly what's going on." Bobby had sat across from Sam in an easy chair.

Dean was now pacing. "I intend on telling him about what we discovered."

Bobby snorted. "Yeah, well of course you're gonna tell him, I was referring to the bathroom incident."

Dean eye's lit up in anger. "I think he has enough on his plate."

"He has a right to know." Bobby countered.

"Would you two stop talking about me like I'm not in the room? I know that I'm out of it, and if I was honest, I feel like I'm going insane, but I would like to know what happened. What did I do this time?" Sam could tell that Dean was trying to protect him but in order for them to face whatever this was, he needed all the facts.

"Sammy, you didn't do anything. I found you in the bathroom, you had reopened the wounds on your arms with Bobby's silver letter opener. But it wasn't you Sam, we've confirmed that a dream demon has latched onto you." Dean sat down on the edge of the couch.

"So this demon wants me to kill myself?" Sam couldn't understand the motive to that.

Bobby cleared his throat. "I haven't had time to do the research on this particular demon, but most dream demons feed on a person's angst and negative emotions. The one that has targeted you is the most powerful and therefore might bleed a person dry so to speak when feeding."

Sam nodded. "So this demon feeds on the most extreme emotions, and probably leaves the victim dead or insane?"

Bobby took his hat off and scratched his head before replacing it. "Yep, I reckon that's its MO. We used a dreamcatcher to smoke it out and now I need to do some research on this Mare. It's name lead to the term nightmare. Give me a few hours and I'll find a ritual to rid you of it."

Dean patted Sam's leg. "In the meantime Sammy, it's my job to keep you awake so this thing can't feed."

Bobby, stood and headed towards his desk. "Have fun boys."

-0-

Sam just wanted to fade back into sleep but he knew that wasn't a good idea. Plus his big brother wasn't gonna let him sleep.

"Sammy, how about some sunlight? It's a nice day outside." Dean got up off the couch and offered his hand.

Sam slapped it away. "Not a baby."

"No you just act like one." Dean replied as he took a step back giving Sam room to move but close enough to hover.

Sam slowly placed his feet on the ground and used both hands to launch himself off of the couch. The younger hunter soon regretted that move as both his arm and shoulder registered their displeasure of that move.

Sam winced as he finally made it upright and started to sway as he immediately felt dizzy. A strong arm snaked its way around his back, and Sam soon felt himself being guided towards the front porch.

Dean didn't say a word as he helped Sam outside. Once they were on the porch, Dean gently lowered Sam down the wooden bench that sat up against the front of Bobby's house.

Sam took a deep calming breath as he willed the pain of his tailbone and other body parts to stop their attack on his body.

"Sammy, I think you need some pain meds. You're getting pretty pale on me." Dean's face was full of concern as he hovered over Sam.

"Dean, if you give me pain meds then I will fall asleep. The pain is keeping me grounded and awake. Maybe some coffee might help too?" Sam was feeling a bit shaky from the pain and lack of food and hoped that even something to drink would help that.

"Dude, I think coffee might be a bit too harsh on your stomach. How about some tea? I'll make some warm tea with lemon. If you keep that down, we'll move on from there, okay?"

"Sounds good." Sam tried to stretch out on the bench, wincing as he did.

"Sam, maybe I should move you back inside? This isn't very comfortable, is it?" Dean had already bent over ready to help Sam to stand.

"No, it's okay really Dean. I like the fresh air, I've been cooped up so much over the last few days. An hour outside isn't gonna hurt." Sam gave Dean a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'm gonna go and make that tea. You stay put and awake and I'll be right back." Dean patted Sam on the arm and headed inside.

-0-

It was hard to leave Sam alone even for a few minutes, but Dean knew that Sam needed his brother not to smother him. The pain was doing a number on Sam and while that worried Dean, it reassured him that Sam wouldn't be napping anytime soon.

Dean just hoped that Bobby was able to find an answer to get rid of the dream demon soon. As Dean put water on to make tea, he was tempted to spy on Bobby, but he knew better. The elder hunter wouldn't be in a sharing mood so early in the hunt for an answer and Dean really didn't want his head bitten off for being a bother.

It seemed to take forever for the water to boil, but finally it was ready for a tea bag and some lemon. Dean frowned remembering that Bobby wasn't one to keep fruit around but was pleasantly surprised to find a bottle of lemon juice in the fridge. It was bit over the best by date, but didn't smell funny so he poured some in a mug for Sam.

He was blowing on it to cool it some when he found the bench he left Sam on empty. He sat the mug down and began searching the yard for Sam.

His eyes locked on to Sam within seconds. His brother was in the middle of the yard having a conversation with the air.

_Shit._

Moving slowly so that he didn't spook his brother, he made his way off the porch. Sam seemed oblivious to the fact that Dean was behind him.

As Dean approached he could hear his brother's one sided conversation.

_I'm sorry Mom, I really am, I tried._

_I am a failure and ..._

_I will try again, when Dean or Bobby aren't watching._

_They know what I'm trying to do so it'll be hard..._

_Yes, but I don't want to hurt them._

_A gun, I know a gun would be best. It would be fast._

_Tonight, I promise, I'll try again tonight when they're asleep._

_I won't fail this time._

_I promise. _

Sam slowly turned around, tears streaming down his eyes. He didn't seem to notice Dean as he made his way towards the house.

**A/N: A big thanks to BlueEyeDemonLiz and her mad beta skills. I'm thrilled that the birthday girl is still enjoying the story! Oh and I have exciting news, we have it all written now. We have twelve chapters to post and we'll have them up as soon as we get them ready to post. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and especially those who took time to comment!**


	9. Chapter 9

Dream Weaver

Chapter Nine

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Sam found himself approaching the porch. His body was heaving in the midst of an emotional break down and the scary part was he had no clue as to why.

Taking a calming breath, he slowly lowered himself down on the steps of the porch. As he sat down he noticed that his big brother was just a few steps away.

Concern creased his brother's handsome face. "Sammy, please wake up."

Sam wiped the tears away. "I'm back Dean. What the hell happened?"

The tension left Dean's body as Sam spoke. His big brother took a seat next to Sam, his shoulder touching Sam's. It felt reassuring to have Dean so close.

"Sam while I was making you some tea, you must have fallen asleep again. I was only gone a few minutes but when I came out you were in the middle of the yard having a conversation with..."

Dean fell silent, and Sam could feel his brother tense next to him, not wanting to go on.

"Dean, I don't remember anything. I know this is hard but uh, who was I having a conversation with?" Sam's shoulder bumped his brother willing him to speak.

"Mom. In your dream state you were having a conversation with Mom. And I think, God this is hard...I think she was encouraging you to make another suicide attempt." Dean stood up and started to pace.

Sam nodded and took another calming breath. "Yeah, well it fits with the other dreams and thoughts I've had. This demon knows how to push my buttons."

"And I'm gonna kill the son-of- a- bitch! Damn it no one messes with our family like this. How dare it take your memories of the women in your life and twist them like that! One of your dreams... you mentioned Madison wanting you to end it. That's just so off the reservation, I don't ...."

"Dean, it's okay man. Bobby is gonna figure this out, in the meantime, just keep me awake. And please stop pacing, all that movement is not helping my head." Sam gave Dean a small smile and it was returned.

Sam knew this was hard on Dean, it was probably harder on him than Sam. His big brother always had a mission to protect Sam. The feelings of being helpless had to be wearing him down.

"Well Sam, let's get you back on that bench and oh, yeah...I have your tea up there but it's probably cold now." Dean bent down and gently helped Sam to his feet.

Sam normally would have hated the mother hen routine but if it kept Dean's mind busy, he could live with it.

Once Dean deposited Sam back on the bench, he reached for the tea. "I should warm this up."

Sam took it from his hands. "It's fine Dean, I don't mind. Just stay with me, okay?"

"Sure." Dean sat down next to Sam, his foot bouncing with nervous energy.

Sam knew he needed to keep Dean's mind preoccupied or his brother's nervous energy was going to drive him mad.

"So Dean, do you think that the dream demon staged an attack at the woods to distract us?" Sam watched as Dean stilled in thought.

"Probably, shit, I hadn't thought of this but there's probably a real werewolf still lose in Arkansas." Dean sat up from his slumped position on the bench.

"Yeah, but Dean, people are safe for now. The moon phase has changed." Sam hated the fact that the dream demon had derailed not only his life but their hunt. That meant innocent people were still at risk.

Dean nodded in agreement. "Yeah for now. We need to do some research after we kill the demon. Bobby said there has been reports of an Ozark Devil myth in that area. Might not be a myth."

Sam sighed. "Knowing our luck, it'll be the Ozark Devil and it'll be a bitch to kill."

"Yep, it's just part of being a Winchester."

-0-

Bobby approached the front door with both hope and dread. He'd found what he thought was a sure fire way to kill the dream demon but it had its risks and it would definitely not be a pleasant experience for Sam.

He could hear the boys talking. It was a light argument over the best way to kill a creature that they knew little about. Dean was arguing that fire power was the best bet, while Sam was all for beheading and burning.

Sam's voice was more quiet than normal and Bobby knew the boy was exhausted. It's what this damn dream demon did. It drains its victim dry, both physically and mentally. It was a miracle and a testament to Sam's strength that the boy had lasted as long as he had, most victims had succumbed to the demon within twenty four hours.

Demons either fed until the victim was dead or mentally scrambled for the rest of their lives.

That was not an option here, not when it was Sam. The boy was like a son to him, just like Dean. The boy's were pains in his ass, but worth all the trouble they brought.

As much as he hated to interrupt the boys' discussion, he knew that the sooner they started on the cleansing ritual, the sooner Sam would be able to heal.

Bobby slowly swung the screen door open not wanting to spook the boys. Both of the younger hunters swiveled around and watched as Bobby stepped out onto the porch.

Dean spoke first. "Did you find something Bobby?"

Sam was quiet and pale. His eyes were intently studying Bobby, waiting for his answer.

Bobby walked over to the railing across from the boys and leaned against it. "Well, yeah, I think I did find an answer to our problem."

"Good, what do we need to do to kill the son-of-a-bitch?" Dean replied anger lacing his voice.

"Well, the problem is this particular demon bonds itself to its victim, it literally becomes part of the victim. He's basically got his hooks in Sam." Bobby paused and he let the boys soak up the information.

It was Dean's turn to become pale and quiet. Bobby could tell that he was struggling with the thought of the demon being bonded to his brother.

Sam's face was blank as he spoke. "But you said you had an answer to this Bobby?"

Bobby cleared his throat and spoke. "Yeah, in the 1970's there was an outbreak of people literally dying from nightmares in Barbados. A witch doctor there realized it was the work of a demon. He came up with a cleansing potion and ritual to rid the victims of the demon. Killing the demon."

Dean seemed to perk up with this information. "So can you get a hold of the ritual and potion?"

Bobby sighed. "Yeah, it seems there was an American reporter there during this time documenting the culture. The article he wrote had the Latin prayer and the ingredients to the potion. He watched the rituals and was mesmerized at how it worked. This reporter watched as the witch doctor mumbled words of Latin and the victims drank the potion. He reported that shortly after the ritual started, the victim would convulse and fall to the floor. A black slug that had the consistency of tar, was expelled from the victims mouth."

Dean's eyes lit up. "The demon was expelled."

"Yep, that's what I'm betting. When we saw the demon's true form it was a black blob like substance."

Bobby's attention drifted over to Sam, knowing that the facts that were presented couldn't be comforting to him.

The boy's face continued to be blank but his right hand was rubbing against his leg nervously. In a quiet voice he spoke. "So we just do the prayer and the ritual and my body will expel the demon?"

"Uh, yeah, but Sam you have to know that some victims aspirated as they vomited up the entity or suffered from brain trauma from the convulsions themselves. Most victims suffered from violent convulsions. It's not gonna be pleasant."

Bobby wasn't surprised when Dean stood, punching the outer wall of the house. Dean seemed oblivious to the pain he had inflicted on himself. "Damn it, there has to be another way. We just need to search longer."

Bobby held out his hands in a placating manner. "I could search longer, I could, but there is a risk with that too. Most victims are normally dead or permanently damaged within twenty four hours. Sam has been lucky he's lasted so longer, we're definitely working on borrowed time."

Sam slowly stood, wincing a bit as he reached his full height. Bobby watched as the younger brother made his way to Dean. He slowly raised his uninjured arm and placed a hand on his older brother's arm.

"Dean, I'm barely holding on. I don't want to end up in a mental institution, with this thing feeding on me for the rest of my life. It has to end now, and if Bobby is confident this will work then I'm willing to take the risks that are involved." Sam's tone was quiet but firm.

Dean sagged in a defeated manner under his brother's touch. "I don't want to lose you."

Sam smiled. "You won't. I can handle this, and I know that you and Bobby have my back."

Bobby hoped with all he was worth that Sam was right and that the kid was strong enough to make it through this because if he didn't well it would mean the end to the Winchesters. Both of them. Dean would never make it without his brother.

-0-

They had worked all afternoon on clearing out the guest room, and Dean was beat. They had removed all the furniture so that there were no dangers to Sam if he went into violent convulsions. The mattresses were off of the two twin beds and left on the floor to cushion Sam if he did succumb to the convulsions.

Dean kept hoping against the odds, that his brother would be the lucky one. He hoped that Sam would be strong enough to expel the demon without any ill effects. It was a pipe dream at best but Dean's sanity depending on the chance that it would happen that way.

It also helped and unnerved him at how calm his little brother was. Sam had taken the news in his stride and was now doing what he did best, checking over Bobby's research as Bobby helped Dean clean out the room.

Dean has insisted that Sam use the laptop to do his checking so that the boy could stay within eyes sight. Sam had agreed and was now perched on the floor in the hall way outside the guest room. It had to be uncomfortable sitting on the hard floor with his brother's bruising but the kid hadn't complained once.

As Bobby and Dean finished up, both plopping down on the hard floor in the now empty room in exhaustion, Sam spoke up from the hall way.

"Bobby, are you sure that you have all of the herbs we need?" Sam's voice was business like, in research mode.

"Read them off to me again?" Bobby replied.

"Anise, it is a herb used to ward off bad dreams and it's needed in this potion. They also suggest using it to ward off dream demons by placing it in your pillow at night." Sam paused waiting for Bobby's answer.

"Yeah, I have that. You might want to use it for awhile, until your body is on the mend from this attack."

Dean felt the anger bubble in him. "It'd been nice to have had this stupid herb in the first place."

Sam sighed. "Dean, we can't ward off everything, you know that. Don't play the blame game, this isn't anyone's fault but the damn demon's."

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah, I know."

Sam gave him a smile and continued. "The next one listed is bay, which is used to heal, purify, protect, and strengthen. I just hope that it doesn't interfere with my stupid powers."

Dean could see the concern in both Sam and Bobby's face. "Why Sammy? What could this stuff do to you?"

Sam shrugged and looked away. It was Bobby that finally spoke.

"Well Bay is a powerful herb. I do have it but I use it very sparingly. It can be used to break hexes, remove family curses, exorcise demons and poltergeists, and guard against lightning. But it also can be used to facilitate psychic powers and induce prophetic dream visions. So technically it could make Sam's visions worse." Bobby studied his hands, and appeared deep in thought.

Dean could feel his stomach cramp up at the thought of Sam suffering anymore than he already did from the demon powers within him. "Do we have to use this bay stuff?"

Bobby took his hat off and scratched his head. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to leave it out, we'd risk this not working and hurting Sam. My hope is that we're using such a small amount of bay that it won't affect Sam's powers."

Sam shuffled around on the floor and Dean could see he was trying to get comfortable. His little brother finally stilled and spoke. "We'll just deal with it if it happens. I don't think we have any other option. So let's move on, the next one on the list is... dill."

Dean let out a nervous chuckle. "As in dill pickles?"

Bobby joined in on the nervous laughter. "Yeah, that kind of dill. I have lots of that one, it's easy to come by."

Dean nodded. "What's it used for besides pickles?"

Sam smiled. "It's not powerful but it is a protection against lower level demons. I think that's why Dad never bothered with it much. But mixed with other stuff, it can be quite effective. Many people use it to make protection amulets."

"Huh, who knew? Pickles and demons." Dean was happy to find a way to add a little humor to the conversation it seemed to relax his brother.

Sam let out a fake huff. "Well if we could move on, we'll also need some myrrh."

Dean smirked. "Like that stuff they brought baby Jesus?"

Bobby took his hat off and hit Dean with it. "Damn it boy, yes. Do you always have to be a smartass?"

Dean could see the spark of amusement in both Bobby and Sam's eyes. "Ow, and yeah I live to be a smartass. Just ask Sammy!"

"Sorry Bobby, he can't help it. He was born that way." Sam paused. "If I can continue, myrrh is used in rituals to banish evil."

Bobby placed his cap back on. "And I have it."

Sam nodded and continued to read from the laptop. "There is one last one that we need. Valerian."

Dean perked up at the mention of that herb. He knew that one. "Isn't that one used for love potions? Don't tell me we'll have a love sick Sammy on our hands after this is done?"

Dean was happy to see Sam give him the bitch face. It meant he'd hit a bulls eye with that comment. His brother was now turning a nice shade of pink. Embarrassing the kid was always fun.

Bobby was snickering from his spot on the floor and Dean couldn't help but join in.

Sam's pale features became more of a crimson color as he huffed at them. "Yeah, laugh it up. Just wait, I'll get you back Dean."

Dean smirked. "I'm sure you will Sammy."

That remark was met with the finger. Sam glared back down at the laptop. "Besides love potions, it is also used to make sleep potions and purifications. Do we have some Bobby?"

Bobby shuffled in his spot trying to gain composure. "Yeah kid, we have it. In fact, because of that ingredient some victims fall into a deep sleep after the ritual."

"Well Sam could use some good sleep once this is all over." Dean started to pick himself up off the floor.

Bobby followed suit. And Dean watched as Sam slowly closed the laptop, readying himself to get up.

Dean leaned down and snatched the laptop, handing it off to Bobby. He then held a hand out to help Sam up from his spot on the floor.

"So Sammy, you ready to get this party started?" Dean tried to keep his tone light, even as his stomach twisted in fear for his brother.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, let's send this demon to hell."

-0-

Sam had lain down on the mattresses splayed in the empty guest room. With his eyes closed, he was concentrating on his breathing. Dean was kneeled next to him holding the cleansing potion, that definitely smelled as Dean had put it- _like ass_. Sam was sure it probably tasted that way too, but tried not to dwell on it.

Bobby's sure and steady voice floated above him. The Latin prayer that he was reciting almost sounded like a song as it poured from the elder hunter's lips.

Sam nerves made it hard to actually concentrate on the words that were being said. He just took comfort in the tone and Dean's presence.

About half way through the prayer, Sam would have to drink the potion and then as the prayer ended, the demon would be expelled.

Sam kept his thoughts focused on his breathing trying not to focus on the panic inside him at the thought of what was about to come. He could do this. He **had** to do this.

One of Dean's hands had made its way to Sam's shoulder. Sam took comfort in the touch and he was sure that it was as much a comfort for him as it was for Dean.

Dean had been on edge ever since Bobby had brought up the ritual. There were too many unknowns and Sam knew that put Dean on edge. Crap, it had him on edge.

But there was very little choice here. Either go insane or do this unpleasant, potentially fatal ritual.

Dean's voice broke through Sam's thoughts. "Sammy it's time."

Sam opened his eyes and lifted himself into a sitting position. Dean placed a hand behind Sam's neck and then guided the goblet full of the potion up to Sam's lips.

Taking a deep breath, Sam chugged the sludge down. He took a greedy breath once the atrocious liquid was gone.

Sam could feel the liquid burn as it made its way down to his stomach. His body clinched in pain and he could hear Dean whispering words of encouragement.

Once the liquid reached his stomach, the pain had become too much. He started to scratch at his stomach, trying to claw his way to the pain. Strong arms and hands stopped his assault.

Then on top of the burn, Sam felt his whole body stiffen. His muscles locked in place and he felt like a passenger in an out of control body.

The lights above burned his eyes so he closed them, and then he felt his body launch into the predicted violent convulsions. It was ten times worse than he could have ever imagined.

It felt like every muscle in his body was clinching violently. He was helpless to stop it. The only comfort he found in the out of control experience was that he knew Dean was there. He could feel his brother's hands on him and he could hear his brother's voice over the roar in his ears.

The pain and uncontrolled movements seemed to never end, but finally, his convulsions slowed. Sam tried to catch his breath.

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean's voice was full of concern.

Sam tried to nod, or speak but he felt frozen in place. The pain was back, and this time it was even worse. He felt his body arch back against the mattresses under him. His insides were on fire.

The pain started in his stomach but it was slowly moving upwards. Sam had been in pain many times, but nothing compared to this. He tried to breathe through it but it was hard to concentrate on taking a breath when your insides were melting.

He could feel the burn reaching his throat and with that pain came a new sensation. Sam couldn't breathe. There was something blocking his air way, and it was large. It felt like he'd swallowed a grapefruit and it was now locked in his throat.

Dean's voice was frantically screaming but Sam couldn't make out the words. He felt his body being tilted on its side and then there was outside pressure against his ribs.

They had discussed using the Heimlich Maneuver if Sam's airway became blocked and Sam realized that his brother was now giving it a try. Sam just hoped it worked.

He could now feel a thick substance in his throat and then a hand inside latching on to it, pulling. The sensations of pain and choking were becoming too much. Sam fought the darkness but in the end it won.

TBC

**A/N: I know I said twelve chapters but I once we actually broke it up, it was only ten. So the good news is that we only have one chapter left. I hope to have it up very soon. Real life got in the way of this one being posted and I hope that won't be an issue with ten. Thanks again to our beta BlueEyedDemonLiz, she is the best. A quick shot out to the b-day girl, Floralia, so glad you like the story. A big thanks to everyone who has reviewed! :0)**


	10. Chapter 10

Dream Weaver

Chapter Ten

Co-written by Sendintheclowns

Dean tried his best to hang on to Sam who was bucking like a rodeo bronco. His little brother was in intense pain and there was nothing Dean could do about it.

That was the absolute worst…seeing Sam in distress and not being able to stop it.

The convulsions finally eased and Dean thought maybe, just maybe, Sam was going to beat this thing. "Sammy, are you okay?"

Sam's eyes slid toward Dean's face, wet and unfocused. His little brother tried to nod but the motion turned into a gasp.

And then Sam heaved violently, arching against the mattress, head thrashing.

His lips were turning an interesting shade of blue. Dean loved the color blue but not on someone's lips. Not on Sammy.

"Shit! Sammy! You need to breathe. Shit, you can't breathe, can you? Hang on…shit. Sam! You don't get to leave me…"

Dean's concern bubbled out as anger, his words hurled at top volume. He wasn't mad at his brother. He wasn't. But Sammy wasn't breathing and Dean didn't know what to do and…

Dean grasped Sam firmly and flipped him on his side into recovery position. Sam couldn't dislodge whatever was preventing him from breathing and Dean screaming at him wasn't going to solve the problem.

It was awkward but Dean snaked one arm under Sam's body and the other around him until his hands met at Sam's stomach. Dean curled one hand into a fist, placing that thumb just above Sam's bellybutton. Grabbing a hold of the fist with his other hand, Dean thrust upward, driving his fist into Sam's abdomen with five successive squeeze-thrusts.

Sam coughed weakly, Dean's efforts forcing scant air through his diaphragm. But the cough sounded fake and Dean could tell by the way Sam's chest remained still under his hands that his brother still wasn't breathing on his own.

Dean repeated the whole awkward procedure, desperate for a sign that Sam was drawing breath.

"That's it, Dean. I think it's working." Bobby's voice was low and steady but just below the surface Dean detected something foreign – fear.

Cursing the demon and the situation under his breath, Dean performed his modified Heimlich once again.

A hoarse cough, more forceful this time, erupted from Sam's lips. A dark substance dribbled from his brother's slack lips. Less slug and more slime, the black, tarry substance slithered out of Sam's mouth before dissipating into the air in a fine steam.

Dean removed his hands from Sam's middle, pushing the hair from his brother's face. The color was seeping back into the skin, turning it from ashen to pink as Sam continued to hack.

One hand settled at the back of Sam's neck while Dean's other hand continued to brush the long, damp bangs away from his forehead in a soothing motion. "That's it, Sammy, get it all out. I've got you."

The coughing subsided to an occasional gasp and Sam turned himself from his side to his back, grasping at Dean's arm as he went. "Need…sit up…"

Still dangerously out of breath, Sam's chest heaved in and out, making up for lost time. Bobby slid a hand behind Sam's shoulder and started to lever him up but Dean swatted his hand away. It was Dean's job to take care of Sam. No one else's.

Dean glared at the older hunter but Bobby glared right back. "He'll breathe easier if you sit him up."

Damn. Dean knew that. He quickly complied, pulling Sam into a sitting position. His brother grimaced, either his wounded shoulder or bruised tailbone making itself known. Dean sank down on the mattress, squeezing behind Sam, pulling his brother back against his chest. "In and out, Sammy. That's it. You did it."

It could have been minutes or hours as Dean lost track of time, his whole attention focused on Sam's labored breathing. It finally eased and Sam's head drooped against Dean's shoulder, the tension fleeing his body.

Sam had finally given in to exhaustion and fallen asleep.

Dean realized his right hand had continued to stroke through Sam's hair in rhythm with his brother's inhalations. His hand dropped from Sam's head guiltily. He'd been petting his brother.

The sounds of stifled mirth made its way to Dean and he turned his head to find Bobby perched in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

Dean had been petting Sam and Bobby had seen it. He'd never live this down.

The older man straightened from the doorway, a deep smile creasing his face. "If you're, ahem, finished here I'm pretty sure Sam will have himself a well earned siesta. How about you go rustle up something to eat and I'll keep your brother company until you're done?"

Ignoring the humor on Bobby's face, Dean slid out from behind Sam, easing him back down to the mattress. Dean didn't like the way Sam's body limply flopped in his arms but he'd known going in to the ritual that his brother would need sleep and lots of it. Nothing like wrestling with a dream demon to exhaust a body. And mind.

Wondering if Sam would be okay when he woke up, Dean reluctantly left his brother's side. He'd cram in some food – not salad, though – and then stand vigil over his sleeping brother.

-0-

Sam's chest and throat hurt. Not I'm coming down with a cold but shit, it really hurts to breathe and swallow.

His hands crept up to his neck but were intercepted by cool, calloused fingers. "Just relax, Sam. The dream demon is gone. We did it."

He could hear the satisfaction in Dean's voice and he wanted to see his brother's face. See for himself that everything was okay.

Eyelids lifted and then slammed shut several times before Sam was able to keep them open. Next came focusing his eyes. He could make out the outline of his brother standing there but his features were blurry.

Something thrummed in his throat. Like fingers tickling piano keys. The fingers flexed, forming a fist. A hand was in his throat. Grasping. Creeping. Fighting.

Choking.

Sam wheezed, his eyes squeezing shut. He couldn't pull in oxygen. Something, or someone, was in his throat, cutting off his air supply.

"Easy, Sammy." He found himself turned onto his side, still gasping for air.

"Mare…is still…here…" Using the last of his energy, Sam panted the words out.

"Bobby!" Dean's voice boomed from above him.

Alarm colored that one syllable and with it Sam lost any semblance of restraint. His head began to thrash tiredly, his throat working convulsively to rid itself of its visitor.

A sharp jab to his inner arm had Sam sliding toward oblivion.

Sam gave in, unable to take any more.

-0-

Dean found himself pacing around the small room, his brother sleeping the sleep of the well drugged courtesy of Bobby's Demerol shot.

Bobby had confided after he delivered the shot that he was afraid the narcotic pain medication would compromise Sam's respiratory system. Of course Sam flailing around, making those obscene choking noises, had set off Dean's panic button and he would have grasped at anything to ease Sam's distress.

Fortunately the medication had sent Sam off to la-la land, his breathing returned to normal once he dropped off. No ill effects, just lots of questions.

Was Sammy okay? Or had Mare succeeded in destroying his brother's mind? Sam had done nothing to dispel Dean's worries with his fish-out-of-water routine.

For one sick, crazy moment, Dean had thought the dream demon was still in his brother. But he'd witnessed its annihilation with his own two eyes. Sam just needed time.

Perching on the side of the mattress, Dean touched the back of his hand to his brother's forehead. No fever.

Sam might need time but Dean needed to know that Sam was still with him. That his little brother hadn't lost his marbles. "Sam, can you hear me?"

His brother's pale brow wrinkled, his eyes twitching behind firmly closed lids. Touching Sam's uninjured shoulder, Dean squeezed lightly. "Come on, Sam, wakey, wakey."

Bloodshot eyes ringed with dark circles blinked owlishly at Dean. "Just ten more minutes."

Tipping his head back and closing his eyes briefly, Dean exhaled pure relief. Sam's response might not make much sense to someone else, but Dean knew it meant his brother was back among the living. And the sane. Just ten more minutes whispered by Sam was the usual plea upon Dean's request to wakey wakey. Ever since Sam had hit those sleep seeking teen years, it had been his usual response. Dean hadn't heard it since before the big argument that sent Sam off into the night and to Stanford and until now hadn't even realized how much he'd missed it.

With that inner sense he had when it came to his brother, Dean knew Sam was okay.

-0-

Sam was finally ready to wake and Dean was thankful. It was hard to have his brother lying there so limp after everything they'd been through the last few days.

"D-Dean?" Sam slowly sat up on the mattresses that he had been stretched across.

"Right here, little brother." Dean had taken up a spot against the wall and was reading the most recent copy of _Popular Mechanics. _

Sam rubbed at his eyes and then at his throat. "Feels like I swallowed rocks."

"I bet, why don't we head for the kitchen. You could use something to drink and some pain meds for that sore throat." Dean rose from his spot on the floor. His limbs were stiff from being on the floor so long.

He held a hand out for his little brother, and helped Sam get up off the floor. Sam swayed a bit but soon was steady enough to walk out of the room.

As they entered the kitchen they were greeted by the sight of Bobby at the kitchen table with every color Sharpie marker available. Dean didn't know they made so many colors.

Puzzled, Dean had to ask the obvious. "What are those for Bobby?"

Bobby huffed. "Thought I'd do some coloring."

Sam laughed at that, and it warmed Dean's heart to see his brother smile. He could tell his little brother had the answer to Bobby's Sharpie mystery.

Sam pointed to the open book in front of Bobby. "He's going to ward off any dream demons that might decide to pop in."

"Yep, those things are nasty and I don't want to ever deal with one in my home again." Bobby gave Sam a sympathetic look. "How ya, feeling kid?"

Sam swallowed hard and his hand shot to his neck. "Bit sore."

Dean patted Sam on the shoulder. "I'll get you some water and some Tylenol."

"Thanks."

Bobby grabbed Dean's arm as he walked by. "Got some Popsicles in the freezer, might feel good on Sam's throat."

Dean snickered. "Popsicles?"

"Not a damn word boy! A man can like Popsicles, and if I remember right, banana's your favorite right Dean?"

Dean instantly got excited. "Banana really? That's **so** awesome."

A rough voice caught Dean's attention. "Yeah, sounds good."

"Shit Sammy, I'll get you one right now." Dean made a beeline for the fridge and pulled out three frozen treats from the freezer. He quickly passed them out and as he lovingly sucked on his Popsicle he grabbed a bottle of water and some Tylenol for Sam.

Sam gave Dean a grateful smile as the water and Tylenol was set in front of him.

Dean then plopped down at the table and began to slurp happily on his frozen delight.

A kick to his leg, brought him back to the present. "Dean, you're making happy noises like Homer on the Simpsons. It's distracting."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

-0-

Sam was happy to be rid of the dream demon, he was even starting to feel himself again. Other than his tailbone throbbing and his other injuries making themselves known, he felt pretty good. He definitely felt lighter.

It was such a relief to know that his dreams were caused by the demon and not visions from his loved ones. He would always feel some guilt for what happened to Mom, Jess and Madison, but he hoped that in time he could work past most of it.

He was pulled from his musings by Dean.

"So Bobby, maybe we should use some of those Sharpies on Sammy. Keep the demons away." Dean was smirking but Sam could see the concern in his brother's eyes.

Sam sighed. "Yeah, well I'd do it if it meant I wouldn't be targeted again. In fact, I've been meaning to ask. Bobby do you have any idea why this thing targeted me?"

It was Bobby's turn to sigh. "Yeah, but ya aint gonna like it."

Dean bristled. "What do you mean by that Bobby?"

"Simmer down kid. I just mean that a large reason this thing targeted Sam is because he's a Winchester."

Sam snapped to attention. "What?"

Bobby scratched his beard. "Your daddy was a good man, but his whole philosophy about keeping your mouth shut and moving on when it comes to emotional heavy issues is a load of crap. You keep that sort of stuff bottled up and it poisons you."

Dean seemed to calm at the elder hunters admission which shocked Sam considering how his brother looked up to their dad. "Yeah, we're not the caring and sharing type but what does that have to do with this demon latching onto Sammy?"

Sam shook his head. "Dean, I was carrying around so much guilt and grief over Madison's death, that I was a buffet for this demon. He latched onto me because I was emotionally crippled. That's what your getting at isn't it Bobby?"

"To put it bluntly, yes. My suggestion to you Sam, is that you need to take some time off to heal both physically and mentally. You boys can stay here, and Dean can help me out in the yard until you both are ready for the next hunt." Bobby gave Sam a reassuring smile.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, and in a month I can head over and take care of that werewolf. I think it's too early for you Sam. The loss of Madison is too fresh. I should have realized that before."

Sam started to speak in his own defense but Bobby beat him to it.

"You idgit. Dean, neither one of you are going after that werewolf. All that guilt that your carrying around for not protecting Sam from the demon and letting the kid take on a werewolf so soon, is gonna get you hurt. No, that hunt has already been taken up by Jefferson and one of his buddies. I called them yesterday morning. He said hi by the way."

Sam had to stifle a chuckle, after getting a glimpse of Dean. His brother looked like a scolded ten year old, and was sporting a pout.

"I could have taken the werewolf and been just fine, you know." Dean huffed out.

"Sure thing kid. But it's a mute point, cause I took care of it." Bobby snapped back.

Sam smiled. "Thanks Bobby."

"Don't thank me Sam, cause by the end of the week your gonna wish you'd gotten to leave. I have a ton of notes that need to be organized and parts that need to be pulled and shipped to a customer down south. In fact, if you'll excuse me, I need to make some calls about those parts." Bobby got up and left quickly before Sam or his brother could respond.

Dean laughed. "Old coot's got our number."

Sam smiled. "Dude not so loud, he'll get you for calling him that."

"True. So Sammy, you and I are quite a pair huh?" Dean ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly.

"Yeah. So who goes first? Because if we don't do some talking, I have a feeling Bobby will tan our hides." Sam could feel himself flush a bit in embarrassment. It was never easy to admit his feelings to Dean.

Dean was now nervously tapping his foot. "I guess I could go first. Bobby's right. I'm feeling a bit of guilt about this whole demon thing. I should have never let you hunt, I knew you were off. In the end you got hurt because of me."

Sam smiled. "Uh, I beg to differ dude. This dream demon attack was a new one for us. It's hard to know what to do with the unknown and I think you handled it pretty well. In fact if it weren't for you big brother spidey senses, I would have been able to hurt myself more severely or even had..."

"Don't go there. Jesus, that was a close one, finding you with the gun."

"Yeah, that's what I mean and beyond that, you helped me keep it together. Bobby said that most people didn't make it 24 hours, but I made it longer because of your support. As for the hunt, you can't blame yourself, I used my pouty little brother powers on you and you never can resist that." Sam giggled as Dean pointed a finger at him.

"Yep, that's dirty pool you played Sam. So, I've spilled, your turn little brother." Dean's facial expression softened, and he gave Sam a sympathetic smile.

"Well, where do I start? You know that I've been having trouble moving past Madison's death. It really hit so close to home. I wanted to save her not just because I cared for her but..."

Dean laid a hand on Sam's arm. "But because she reminded you of yourself. A victim of evil with no control. I get that. The difference is, you've been touched by evil but you still have control. Her control was lost the moment she was bitten."

"Do I Dean?" Sam could feel the moisture gathering in his eyes.

"Hell yeah you do. Dude, we've met other psychic children, and yeah some of them couldn't handle their powers but you and Andy give me hope. There is so much good inside, and I know you're gonna make it."

Sam swiped at a stray tear. "Yeah, okay. As long as I have you, I think I can."

Dean nodded. "As for Madison, she understood. I know that doesn't make it easy but she wanted the madness to end."

Sam nodded, and used his sleeve to clear the moisture on his face. "She did. God she was so composed Dean. I don't know if I could have been as brave as she was. She pulled me in for a hug with the gun wedged between us and then as she pulled away I shot..."

Sam could feel his body melt into sobbing.

-0-

Dean pulled Sam into a hug. He'd never pressed Sam for the details of Madison's death. There had always been hope that Sam would open up about it but he knew the Winchester code kept his little brother from sharing.

So Dean had decided to handle it like a Winchester himself, ignore it and it goes away right? But they were so wrong as Bobby pointed out. They had just opened themselves up for a supernatural attack.

It was okay though, it wasn't too late. They had saved Sammy and now, well now it was time to heal.

Dean continued to murmur words of comfort to his little brother until the sobbing stopped.

"Sammy, I promise everything is going to be okay. We're gonna take this week and heal just like Bobby said and when we leave, we'll be stronger and ready to face the evil out there together." Dean could feel Sam pulling away.

Sam took a calming breath and spoke. "Yeah, because we're stronger together. Nothing is going to break us as long as we're together."

Dean smiled. "Damn straight, little brother. Damn straight."

**Sendintheclowns - A/N: ** It has been a blast writing fic with Gidgetgal again; this talented gal really keeps me on my toes which is definitely a good thing. A huge shout out to our marvelous beta, BlueEyedDemonLiz -- we couldn't have done this without her help. And then there's the birthday girl, Floralia -- next time we'll make sure Sam gets that cup of tea because everyone knows really cool people drink tea. And if you stuck with this story, which was only supposed to be half this size, thank you :)

**Gidgetgal9- A/N: **So I guess this is the end? I want to thank Sendintheclowns for working with me again, it's always a joy to have her around to write with. We were very lucky to have BlueEyedDemonLiz around to beta for us, she's the best. As for the birthday girl, I hope this hit all the right notes for you, and I, like my partner in crime, promise tea drinking next time! :0) Finally, I'd like to thank our readers for reading our little story that ran a lot longer than anticipated. We loved reading everyones comments. :0)

BTW, on another note. Be sure to check out the stories that will be coming out this summer during the Sam Summer of Love Challenge at Live Journal. The link is located in my profile. Also, I have started a sequel to the Charmed/SPN crossover- Witches, Demons and Hunters- Oh My with my co-author and it's coming along nicely. It's called Second Chances. I'm still working on the sequel to Hearts Desire- Kira's Revenge but now that Dream Weaver is done hopefully I can focus on it more. :0)


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